His warning was seen as a historic wake-up call – but instead of heeding the existential smoke alarm, the US removed the batteries and kept cooking. Nearly four decades later, the effects of a bloated Earth are hitting the US Southwest and Mountain West – encompassing states from California to Colorado. Over the past two decades, extreme heat and decreasing humidity levels have converged to create a “great drought” that is believed to be the driest period in 1,200 years. The west is now in uncharted territory as once unique conditions have become the norm. Its strongest reservoirs – Lake Mead and Lake Powell – are at record levels and steadily shrinking. Prolonged, triple-digit heat waves make cities like Phoenix, Arizona, and Las Vegas, Nevada, nearly uninhabitable in the summer. And wildfires are now burning year-round as parched forests and grasslands are more primed than ever to burn. A study this year found that the current dry season, which began in 2000, is the worst in 1,200 years. Data from the US Drought Monitor, a federal government monitoring system, provides a snapshot of how these have evolved over the past 22 years. A recent Washington Post analysis found that in some parts of the Southwest, average annual temperatures have already risen by more than 1.5 C, a threshold widely considered the tipping point at which catastrophic consequences for people and the environment prevail. The emergency conditions offer a warning of what’s to come for other arid regions that cross that line. It’s also a reminder that despite all modern innovations to circumvent an unforgiving climate, drought may still have the last word unless drastic action is taken quickly. “We’ve been given a great warning by climate scientists,” says Bill McKibben, the journalist turned climate activist. “And yet, instead of mustering the will to do something about it, our political and economic systems have conspired to do nothing.” In a new series, the Guardian will explore the effects of the severe drought on the communities and environments of the US Southwest, where ranchers, indigenous peoples and tourists are seeing their everyday lives turned upside down. Dry land that would be underwater when the lake fills is seen next to Gregory Butte in Lake Powell, Arizona. Photo: Rick Wilking/ReutersA dead Joshua tree affected by the worsening drought in Arizona. Large parts of the West are now designated as being in extreme drought. Photo: David McNew/Getty Images
‘More severe than any previous drought’
The researchers behind the study that pinpointed the current extreme drought did so by analyzing one of nature’s greatest record keepers: tree rings. While drought is a natural part of the Southwest’s climate, looking at the relationship between tree rings and soil moisture found that the current drought, which began in 2000, is unprecedented since 800 AD. The 2022 study, published in the journal Nature Climate Change, attributed 42 percent of the hot and dry conditions of the past two decades to global warming. Tim Kohler, an archaeologist and professor at Washington State University, says the current extreme drought is different from prehistoric dry periods. “This appears to be more severe than any of the previous droughts and just as long,” he says. “But the really bad news is that all previous mega-droughts occurred without the effect of rising greenhouse gases. Now we’re playing a new ball game, and scientists don’t know what to expect.” Recent research has shown how these compelling forces play out on the ground. We’ve been given an excellent warning by climate scientists … our political and economic systems have colluded to do nothing Bill McKibben A report last February by the United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) described how fires ravaging the ponderosa pine forests of the Southwest are fueling a dangerous “positive feedback loop.” Rather than acting as “carbon sinks” that absorb CO2, explains Camille Parmesan, an ecologist who contributed to the report, some forests can actually become generators of greenhouse gases as they burn, in turn driving more warming. “At some point, we may have set such a long, heavy train in motion that the positive feedback loops will lock in and continue to produce CO2 regardless of what humans do,” says Parmesan. “We have evidence that this is starting, and that’s really scary.” View of the Colorado River from the Navajo Bridge in Marble Canyon, Arizona. Photo: Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images Another troubling aspect of the current dry season is something Parmesan calls “synergistic compositional effects.” essentially when the effects of climate change occur simultaneously and turn what might otherwise have been a normal weather-related event – such as a wildfire or heat wave – into a disaster. A sign marks the Colorado River as it flows past the Never Summer Mountains in Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado. Photo: David Zalubowski/AP One such example is in Colorado, on the western slope of the Rocky Mountains that feeds Lake Powell and Lake Mead. The slope experiences less snowfall and higher temperatures. But beyond that, dust storms in nearby Utah have become larger and more frequent as the ground dries out. the dust then blows up the mountain, making the snow melt even faster. These two interrelated phenomena make the drought even worse. This complex phenomenon also played out last spring and summer with large wildfires in northern Arizona and northern New Mexico. The lack of snowfall led to a parched forest where drought and pests had already killed many trees. This combined with record heat, low humidity and hurricane force winds create unstoppable wildfires. Kathy Oliver was in the path of one such fire, the Tunnel Fire, near Flagstaff, Arizona, in April. Oliver, who runs a local horse shelter, woke up one morning to a smoke-smelling air and had to leave almost immediately. The fast-moving fire, which burned through nearly 27,000 acres, consumed her home and belongings within hours. “I could feel the heat of the fire on my back when I was loading the last horses,” Oliver says of her narrow escape with her 21 horses, three dogs and two cats. “Climate change hit me hard.” Resource consultants are working to determine the severity of the impact of the Tunnel fires near Flagstaff, Arizona. Photo: Tom Story/AP
“The earth is the source of our life, not a resource”
As the West approaches its worst drought in modern history, there are lessons to be learned from the past. Kohler has spent more than three decades studying prehistoric Puebloan cultures in the Southwest, and he knows what the stress of a major drought can do to a community. He says that large Puebloan societies historically developed during periods of reliable, long-lasting rainfall when growing conditions were favorable, and then “collapsed” during intense mega-droughts that lasted 20 to 40 years. For example, when thriving settlements like Chaco Canyon and Mesa Verde were hit by a severe drought in the 1100s, the survivors dispersed into smaller communities in what is now Arizona and New Mexico. But what has troubled Kohler is evidence from his archaeological research that shows that not every prolonged drought led to the collapse of a Pueblo society. He says only socially polarized communities seemed to fall apart during a climate crisis. “What I think happened is that some people in these villages had more wealth or corn production than others,” Kohler explains. Over time, tensions arose between the haves and the have-nots. “If there were pre-existing social divisions during a climate downturn, then you had the potential for violence and village life was thrown into chaos.” Kohler notes that when he found evidence of village members living at the same social level, it appeared that they were able to survive a similarly challenging drought “by sticking together and making things work.” When the thriving settlement of Mesa Verde was hit by a severe drought, they dispersed to smaller communities in Arizona and New Mexico. Photo: Cyndi Hoelzle/Getty Images/EyeEm There are troubling echoes of today’s resource wars – such as today’s standoff on the Colorado River, where western state leaders have been unable to agree on how to limit water use as supplies dwindle. The impasse poses a dire threat to a reservoir system that supplies water to 40 million people and supports much of America’s agriculture. Cultural memories of extreme climate events live on in the stories of Native Americans, who see human survival as dependent on maintaining harmony with all living things. It’s a lesson Lakota spiritual leader Arvol Looking Horse says the descendants of European settlers have yet to learn. The Looking Horse holds a divinely ordained position among the Plains tribes, similar to the Dalai Lama in Tibetan Buddhism. For him, the forces that put the wishes of the fossil fuel industry above the warnings of scientists are the same forces that invaded indigenous homelands centuries ago in a search for natural resources. Chief Arvol Looking Horse: “Man has gone too far in abusing Mother Earth. Now Mother Earth is sick.’ Photo: Reuters “For indigenous people, everything on Earth has a spirit – the wind, the water, the trees, the air – and we’re connected to it,” says Looking Horse. “Man has gone too far in abusing Mother Earth. Now Mother Earth is sick. She has a fever.” Looking Horse says the current state of climate change was predicted in a…