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Why Hurricane Helene is a wake-up call 

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Friday, September 27, 2024

Hurricane Helene made landfall in Florida last night as a ferocious Category 4 storm after gaining strength as it barreled across the Gulf of Mexico. According to Vox’s Benji Jones, the storm and its expected surge have the potential to wreak havoc across the Southeast, but also dump heavy rains onto Appalachia and beyond.  Before summer had even begun, experts were predicting that this year’s hurricane season would be an unusually active one, with as many as 25 named storms churning across the Atlantic Ocean. The ingredients were all there: the uniquely warm ocean temperatures, lessened Atlantic trade winds and wind shear, and the La Niña conditions cooling the waters of the Pacific.  But it’s impossible to look at hurricanes in 2024 without also considering the context of climate change, which has made everything from rains to drought to wildfires more extreme globally, and put more ecosystems and humans in danger in the process. The record-hot waters in the Gulf this summer, for example, have intensified storms like Helene and Beryl, a supercharged hurricane that broke the record for the earliest Category 5 in a season, making them that much more fearsome.  I recently spoke with Umair Irfan, a correspondent at Vox who’s been covering climate, the environment, and environmental policy for a decade, about this hurricane season, what has changed about these massive storms in recent years amid climate change — and what role humans are playing in compounding their impact. Our conversation has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity. —Lavanya Ramanathan Tell us how we used to think about hurricanes, in terms of categories and in terms of strength. What’s complicating that thinking now?The main way we categorize hurricanes is by wind speed. Category 1, 2, 3 — those are thresholds defined by how fast the winds from the hurricane are moving. But what we’ve found in recent decades, and with lots of recent experience, is that wind is not the most destructive element of the hurricane. It’s the water.It’s the rainfall, it’s flooding, it’s storm surge. The water is what causes the most property damage, and what also causes the most casualties and the most extensive tolls on human life. Water makes it difficult to get repair crews in and to get ambulances in and to get people out. Flooding is what blocks the roads. It’s a challenge conveying to the public that when you think about water as the big threat rather than wind, you can take different precautions: storm-proofing your house, flood prevention and mitigation, but also taking evacuation orders more seriously.  What should we know about this hurricane season? You’ve written that it’s expected to be an unusually active season.  To form a hurricane, you need a few things to fall into place. You need warm water at the surface of the ocean, at least 80 degrees Fahrenheit or hotter, you need limited wind shear in the air above it, and then you need another thing called atmospheric instability, where the layers of the atmosphere start to blend and merge with one another. What that does is it creates an environment where you can have a lot of evaporation, where water can move upward to a very high altitude. That’s the main engine of a hurricane.Hurricanes are a relatively rare phenomenon; we only see a couple dozen every year, whereas we see rainfall just about every day. Major hurricanes — we see maybe three or four. It doesn’t happen very often that all these ingredients align in just the right way.But last year was the hottest year on record, and we had a major El Niño, which is a major pattern in the Pacific Ocean that tends to drive up global average temperatures. So air temperatures were very high, causing the oceans to heat up. The major ingredients were there.  I was in Houston after one of the big storms of this season, Hurricane Beryl, which struck in July. I saw the effects of the storm really taking their toll on the city for days afterward, in ways you wouldn’t necessarily expect. How is our understanding of the impact of hurricanes changing? Houston and Hurricane Beryl are good examples of how the ways we describe hurricanes don’t tend to reflect the risk that they can pose. It’s not simply the wind speed, or the strength, but how vulnerable the area is.  Houston was hit by Hurricane Harvey years ago, which caused immense amounts of record flooding because the storm parked over the city and dropped a lot of rain. But Houston also has very little in the way of zoning. It’s also very flat, and it’s right next to the Gulf Coast, so there was not a lot of infrastructure there to cope with an immense amount of water. The main natural features that would absorb water have been paved over to support development.  And so there are human-level decisions that ended up worsening the impact.  With Beryl, it was also a fast-moving storm, and the wind caused a lot of damage to power lines. One of the utility companies there, Centerpoint, has a backlog of maintenance and there were well-known vulnerabilities. So when you had a major storm, it knocked out a lot of power, but also took a long time to get it back. Meanwhile, Houston had a heat wave, so there was an intense energy demand. The high heat, the not having power, all converged to compound the effects of this disaster.If you look at Beryl as just a Category 1 storm, you might brush it off. But when you look at all these other things going on, you realize this is a much more severe disaster than the category would suggest.  And the impact was far broader, right? Right. Hurricanes tend to lose a lot of energy once they make landfall. But they can still be fairly devastating storms, especially if they move to an area that isn’t prepared for it, and isn’t used to getting a torrential downfall. The remnants of Tropical Storm Debby and Beryl both hit Vermont, and caused a lot of flooding and damage, and actually killed people. There was no place for that water to run off to, the people there are not necessarily well-versed in how to evacuate ahead of a storm, and the waterways, roads, and bridges are not designed to withstand sub-tropical storms.Is this something that we’re seeing more of, or are going to see more of? We see that in general with extreme weather. We had a major heat wave in the Pacific Northwest a few years ago; that was devastating because that’s the area with the least amount of air conditioning in the US. It was harmful for the people there because they’re not acclimated to the heat, and they don’t have the infrastructure to deal with it.We see the same thing with storms. A weaker storm can still be devastating in an area that does not have infrastructure that can withstand rains, or porous areas that can absorb the water. And when an event does occur, there’s more severe rainfall, because as air temperatures warm, the air can hold onto more moisture.  So, while we’re focusing on the extremes, we should look at what’s typical as well, and what’s typical is also changing.  Is there something people can do to protect themselves on an individual level that we’re not already doing?  First, you have to start to rethink your mentality. There’s a pervasive thinking that bad things won’t happen to you. If you go for years at a time without a hurricane or a storm, or your house got flooded, and now it’s been a decade, that memory fades very quickly. But one of the concerns with climate change is that it’s bringing extremes into areas where they haven’t experienced them before. So this is a new process for some. The first step is recognizing and appreciating that you are vulnerable, that bad things can happen but you can in fact prepare for them. The big thing is you want to also get your policymakers thinking about things that can mitigate disasters over time — things like building sea walls in coastal areas, but also thinking about big changes like rethinking where we are allowed to build at all. Are we going to retreat from certain areas? Are we just going to have to give up on oceanfront areas because the risk is too high? These are much more difficult policy questions, but we’re going to have to start grappling with them because now is the best opportunity — not after a disaster.

Hurricane Helene made landfall in Florida last night as a ferocious Category 4 storm after gaining strength as it barreled across the Gulf of Mexico. According to Vox’s Benji Jones, the storm and its expected surge have the potential to wreak havoc across the Southeast, but also dump heavy rains onto Appalachia and beyond.  Before […]

Hurricane Helene made landfall in Florida last night as a ferocious Category 4 storm after gaining strength as it barreled across the Gulf of Mexico. According to Vox’s Benji Jones, the storm and its expected surge have the potential to wreak havoc across the Southeast, but also dump heavy rains onto Appalachia and beyond. 

Before summer had even begun, experts were predicting that this year’s hurricane season would be an unusually active one, with as many as 25 named storms churning across the Atlantic Ocean. The ingredients were all there: the uniquely warm ocean temperatures, lessened Atlantic trade winds and wind shear, and the La Niña conditions cooling the waters of the Pacific. 

But it’s impossible to look at hurricanes in 2024 without also considering the context of climate change, which has made everything from rains to drought to wildfires more extreme globally, and put more ecosystems and humans in danger in the process. The record-hot waters in the Gulf this summer, for example, have intensified storms like Helene and Beryl, a supercharged hurricane that broke the record for the earliest Category 5 in a season, making them that much more fearsome. 

I recently spoke with Umair Irfan, a correspondent at Vox who’s been covering climate, the environment, and environmental policy for a decade, about this hurricane season, what has changed about these massive storms in recent years amid climate change — and what role humans are playing in compounding their impact. Our conversation has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity.

—Lavanya Ramanathan

Tell us how we used to think about hurricanes, in terms of categories and in terms of strength. What’s complicating that thinking now?

The main way we categorize hurricanes is by wind speed. Category 1, 2, 3 — those are thresholds defined by how fast the winds from the hurricane are moving. But what we’ve found in recent decades, and with lots of recent experience, is that wind is not the most destructive element of the hurricane. It’s the water.

It’s the rainfall, it’s flooding, it’s storm surge. The water is what causes the most property damage, and what also causes the most casualties and the most extensive tolls on human life. Water makes it difficult to get repair crews in and to get ambulances in and to get people out. Flooding is what blocks the roads. 

It’s a challenge conveying to the public that when you think about water as the big threat rather than wind, you can take different precautions: storm-proofing your house, flood prevention and mitigation, but also taking evacuation orders more seriously. 

What should we know about this hurricane season? You’ve written that it’s expected to be an unusually active season. 

To form a hurricane, you need a few things to fall into place. You need warm water at the surface of the ocean, at least 80 degrees Fahrenheit or hotter, you need limited wind shear in the air above it, and then you need another thing called atmospheric instability, where the layers of the atmosphere start to blend and merge with one another. What that does is it creates an environment where you can have a lot of evaporation, where water can move upward to a very high altitude. That’s the main engine of a hurricane.

Hurricanes are a relatively rare phenomenon; we only see a couple dozen every year, whereas we see rainfall just about every day. Major hurricanes — we see maybe three or four. It doesn’t happen very often that all these ingredients align in just the right way.

But last year was the hottest year on record, and we had a major El Niño, which is a major pattern in the Pacific Ocean that tends to drive up global average temperatures. So air temperatures were very high, causing the oceans to heat up. The major ingredients were there. 

I was in Houston after one of the big storms of this season, Hurricane Beryl, which struck in July. I saw the effects of the storm really taking their toll on the city for days afterward, in ways you wouldn’t necessarily expect. How is our understanding of the impact of hurricanes changing?

Houston and Hurricane Beryl are good examples of how the ways we describe hurricanes don’t tend to reflect the risk that they can pose. It’s not simply the wind speed, or the strength, but how vulnerable the area is. 

Houston was hit by Hurricane Harvey years ago, which caused immense amounts of record flooding because the storm parked over the city and dropped a lot of rain. But Houston also has very little in the way of zoning. It’s also very flat, and it’s right next to the Gulf Coast, so there was not a lot of infrastructure there to cope with an immense amount of water. The main natural features that would absorb water have been paved over to support development

And so there are human-level decisions that ended up worsening the impact. 

With Beryl, it was also a fast-moving storm, and the wind caused a lot of damage to power lines. One of the utility companies there, Centerpoint, has a backlog of maintenance and there were well-known vulnerabilities. So when you had a major storm, it knocked out a lot of power, but also took a long time to get it back. Meanwhile, Houston had a heat wave, so there was an intense energy demand. The high heat, the not having power, all converged to compound the effects of this disaster.

If you look at Beryl as just a Category 1 storm, you might brush it off. But when you look at all these other things going on, you realize this is a much more severe disaster than the category would suggest. 

And the impact was far broader, right? 

Right. Hurricanes tend to lose a lot of energy once they make landfall. But they can still be fairly devastating storms, especially if they move to an area that isn’t prepared for it, and isn’t used to getting a torrential downfall.

The remnants of Tropical Storm Debby and Beryl both hit Vermont, and caused a lot of flooding and damage, and actually killed people. There was no place for that water to run off to, the people there are not necessarily well-versed in how to evacuate ahead of a storm, and the waterways, roads, and bridges are not designed to withstand sub-tropical storms.

Is this something that we’re seeing more of, or are going to see more of?

We see that in general with extreme weather. We had a major heat wave in the Pacific Northwest a few years ago; that was devastating because that’s the area with the least amount of air conditioning in the US. It was harmful for the people there because they’re not acclimated to the heat, and they don’t have the infrastructure to deal with it.

We see the same thing with storms. A weaker storm can still be devastating in an area that does not have infrastructure that can withstand rains, or porous areas that can absorb the water. And when an event does occur, there’s more severe rainfall, because as air temperatures warm, the air can hold onto more moisture. 

So, while we’re focusing on the extremes, we should look at what’s typical as well, and what’s typical is also changing. 

Is there something people can do to protect themselves on an individual level that we’re not already doing? 

First, you have to start to rethink your mentality. There’s a pervasive thinking that bad things won’t happen to you. If you go for years at a time without a hurricane or a storm, or your house got flooded, and now it’s been a decade, that memory fades very quickly. 

But one of the concerns with climate change is that it’s bringing extremes into areas where they haven’t experienced them before. So this is a new process for some. The first step is recognizing and appreciating that you are vulnerable, that bad things can happen but you can in fact prepare for them.

The big thing is you want to also get your policymakers thinking about things that can mitigate disasters over time — things like building sea walls in coastal areas, but also thinking about big changes like rethinking where we are allowed to build at all. Are we going to retreat from certain areas? Are we just going to have to give up on oceanfront areas because the risk is too high? These are much more difficult policy questions, but we’re going to have to start grappling with them because now is the best opportunity — not after a disaster.

Read the full story here.
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On North Carolina’s Rivers and Streams, the Cleanup of Helene’s Fury Seems Never-Ending

It’s been only a year since Hurricane Helene hammered the southeast U.S. from Florida to the Carolinas

WOODFIN, N.C. (AP) — Bracing himself against the current in waist-deep water, Clancy Loorham wrestles a broken length of PVC pipe from the rocky bottom of the French Broad River and peers inside.“I got a catfish in the pipe,” the 27-year-old with wispy beard and mustache shouted to fellow cleanup workers floating nearby in rafts, canoes and kayaks piled with plastic pipe and other human-made detritus. “He’s right here. I’m looking him in the eyes!”It’s been just a year since floodwaters from the remnants of Hurricane Helene washed these pipes out of a nearby factory with such force that some pieces ended up in Douglas Lake, about 90 miles (145 kilometers) away in Tennessee. But they're already slick with algae and filled with river silt — and creatures.Helene killed more than 250 people and caused nearly $80 billion in damage from Florida to the Carolinas. In the North Carolina mountains, rains of up to 30 inches (76 centimeters) turned gentle streams into torrents that swept away trees, boulders, homes and vehicles, shattered century-old flood records, and in some places carved out new channels.In the haste to rescue people and restore their lives to some semblance of normalcy, some fear the recovery efforts compounded Helene’s impact on the ecosystem. Contractors hired to remove vehicles, shipping containers, shattered houses and other large debris from waterways sometimes damaged sensitive habitat.“They were using the river almost as a highway in some situations,” said Peter Raabe, Southeast regional director for the conservation group American Rivers.Conservationists found instances of contractors cutting down healthy trees and removing live root balls, said Jon Stamper, river cleanup coordinator for MountainTrue, the North Carolina-based nonprofit conducting the French Broad work.“Those trees kind of create fish habitats,” he said. “They slow the flow of water down. They’re an important part of a river system, and we’ve seen kind of a disregard for that.”The Army Corps of Engineers said in a statement that debris removal missions “are often challenging” due to the large volume storms can leave behind across a wide area. The Corps said it trains its contractors to minimize disturbances to waterways and to prevent harm to wildlife. North Carolina Emergency Management said debris removal after Helene took into account safety and the environment, and that projects reimbursed by the Federal Emergency Management Agency met that agency’s standards for minimizing impact. Battered first by the storm, and then by the cleanup Hannah Woodburn, who tracks the headwaters and tributaries of the New River as MountainTrue's Upper New Riverkeeper, said waters are much muddier since Helene, both from storm-related vegetation loss and from heavy machinery used during cleanup.She said it's been bad for the eastern hellbender, a “species of special concern” in North Carolina. It's one of only three giant salamanders found in the world, growing up to 2 feet (61 centimeters) long and weighing more than 3 pounds (1.4 kilograms).“After the storm, we had so many reports and pictures of dead hellbenders, some nearly a mile from the stream once the waters receded,” said Woodburn.Of even greater concern is the Appalachian elktoe, a federally endangered mussel found only in the mountains of North Carolina and eastern Tennessee. Helene hurt the Appalachian elktoe, but it also suffered from human-caused damage, said Mike Perkins, a state biologist.Perkins said some contractors coordinated with conservation teams ahead of river cleanups and took precautions. Others were not so careful. He described snorkeling in the cold waters of the Little River and “finding crushed individuals, some of them still barely alive, some with their insides hanging out.” On that river, workers moved 60 Appalachian elktoe to a refuge site upstream. On the South Toe River, home to one of the most important populations, biologists collected a dozen and took them to a hatchery to store in tanks until it's safe to return them to the wild.“It was shocking and unprecedented in my professional line of work in 15 years,” Perkins said of the incident. “There’s all of these processes in place to prevent this secondary tragedy from happening, and none of it happened.”Andrea Leslie, mountain habitat conservation coordinator with the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, said she hopes the experience can inform future recovery efforts.“To a certain degree, you can’t do this perfectly,” she said. “They’re in emergency mode. They’re working to make sure that people are safe and that infrastructure is safe. And it’s a big, complicated process. And there are multiple places in my observation where we could shift things to be more careful." Humans along the river are still recovering, too Like the hellbender and the Appalachian elktoe, humans cling to the river, too.Vickie and Paul Revis’ home sat beside old U.S. 70 in a bend of the Swannanoa River. As Helene swept through, the Swannanoa took their home and scraped away a big chunk of their half-acre lot.With the land paid for and no flood insurance payment to move away, they decided to stay put.After a year in a donated camper, they'll soon move into their new house — a double-wide modular home, also donated by a local Christian charity. It sits atop a 6-foot mound that Paul Revis piled up near the front of the property, farther from the river. Using rock, fill dirt and broken concrete dumped on his property by friendly debris-removal contractors, Paul has reclaimed the frontage the Swannanoa took. His wife planted it with marigolds for beauty and a weeping willow for stability. And they've purchased flood insurance.“I hope I never see another one in my lifetime, and I’m hoping that if I do, it does hold up,” Vickie said. “I mean, that’s all we can (do). Mother Nature does whatever she wants to do, and you just have to roll with it.” Tons of debris pulled out, tons still to go Back on the French Broad, the tedious cleanup work continues. Many on the crew are rafting guides knocked out of work by the storm.MountainTrue got a $10 million, 18-month grant from the state for the painstaking work of pulling small debris from the rivers and streams. Since July, teams have removed more than 75 tons from about a dozen rivers across five watersheds.Red-tailed hawks and osprey circle high overhead as the flotilla glides past banks lined with willow, sourwood and sycamore, ablaze with goldenrod and jewelweed. That peacefulness belies its fury of a year ago that upended so many lives. “There are so many people who are living in western North Carolina right now that feel very afraid of our rivers,” said Liz McGuirl, a crew member who managed a hair salon before Helene put her out of work. “They feel hurt. They feel betrayed.”Downstream, as McGuirl hauled up a length of pipe, another catfish swam out.“We’re creating a habitat, but it’s just the wrong habitat,” crew leader Leslie Beninato said ruefully. “I’d like to give them a tree as a home, maybe, instead of a pipe.”The Associated Press receives support from the Walton Family Foundation for coverage of water and environmental policy. The AP is solely responsible for all content. For all of AP’s environmental coverage, visit https://apnews.com/hub/climate-and-environmentCopyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Sept. 2025

The Dismantling of the US Forest Service Is Imminent

This story was originally published by High Country News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. In the 1880s, giant cattle companies turned thousands of cattle out to graze on the “public domain”—i.e., the Western lands that had been stolen from Indigenous people and then opened up for white settlement. In remote southeastern […]

This story was originally published by High Country News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. In the 1880s, giant cattle companies turned thousands of cattle out to graze on the “public domain”—i.e., the Western lands that had been stolen from Indigenous people and then opened up for white settlement. In remote southeastern Utah, this coincided with a wave of settlement by members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The region’s once-abundant grasslands and lush mountain slopes were soon reduced to denuded wastelands etched with deep flash-flood-prone gullies. Cattlemen fought, sometimes violently, over water and range. The local citizenry grew sick and tired of it, sometimes literally: At one point, sheep feces contaminated the water supply of the town of Monticello and led to a typhoid outbreak that killed 11 people. Yet there was little they could do, since there were few rules on the public domain and fewer folks with the power to enforce them. That changed in 1891, when Congress passed the Forest Reserve Act, which authorized the president to place some unregulated tracts under “judicious control,” thereby mildly restraining extractive activities in the name of conservation. In 1905, the Forest Service was created as a branch of the US Agriculture Department to oversee these reserves, and Gifford Pinchot was chosen to lead it. A year later, the citizens of southeastern Utah successfully petitioned the Theodore Roosevelt administration to establish forest reserves in the La Sal and Abajo Mountains. Since then, the Forest Service has gone through various metamorphoses, shifting from stewarding and conserving forests for the future to supplying the growing nation with lumber to managing forests for multiple uses and then to the ecosystem management era, which began in the 1990s. Throughout all these shifts, however, it has largely stayed true to Pinchot and his desire to conserve forests and their resources for future generations.  But now, the Trump administration is eager to begin a new era for the agency and its public lands, with a distinctively un-Pinchot-esque structure and a mission that maximizes resource production and extraction while dismantling the administrative state and its role as environmental protector. Over the last nine months, the administration has issued executive orders calling for expanded timber production and rescinding the 2001 Roadless Rule, declared “emergency” situations that enable it to bypass regulations on nearly 60 percent of the public’s forests, and proposed slashing the agency’s operations budget by 34 percent. The most recent move, which is currently open to public comment, involves a proposal by Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins to radically overhaul the entire US Department of Agriculture. Its stated purposes are to ensure that the agency’s “workforce aligns with financial resources and priorities,” and to consolidate functions and eliminate redundancy. This will include moving at least 2,600 of the department’s 4,600 Washington, DC, employees to five hub locations, with only two in the West: Salt Lake City, Utah, and Fort Collins, Colorado. (The others will be in North Carolina, Missouri, and Indiana.) The goal, according to Rollins’ memorandum, is to “bring the USDA closer to its customers.” The plan is reminiscent of Trump’s first-term relocation of the Bureau of Land Management’s headquarters to Grand Junction, Colorado, in 2019. That relocation resulted in a de facto agency housecleaning; many senior staffers chose to resign or move to other agencies, and only a handful of workers ended up in the Colorado office, which shared a building with oil and gas companies. Using an emergency declaration, Trump’s timber production executive order would ease environmental protections so as to greatly expand logging in the national forests. Though Rollins’ proposal is aimed at decentralizing the department, it would effectively re-centralize the Forest Service by eliminating its nine regional offices, six of which are located in the West. Each regional forester oversees dozens of national forests within their region, providing budget oversight, guiding place-specific implementation of national policies, and facilitating coordination among the various forests. Rollins’ memo does not explain why the regional offices are being axed, or what will happen to the regional foresters’ positions and their functions, or how the change will affect the agency’s chain of command. When several US senators asked Deputy Secretary Stephen Vaden for more specifics, he responded that “decisions pertaining to the agency’s structure and the location of specialized personnel will be made after” the public comment period ends on September 30. Curiously, the administration’s forest management strategy, published in May, relies on regional offices to “work with the Washington Office to develop tailored strategies to meet their specific timber goals.” Now it’s unclear that either the regional or Washington offices will remain in existence long enough to carry this out. The administration has been far more transparent about its desire to return the Forest Service to its timber plantation era, which ran from the 1950s through the ’80s. During that time, logging companies harvested 10 billion to 12 billion board-feet per year from federal forests, while for the last 25 years, the annual number has hovered below 3 billion board-feet. Now, Trump, via his Immediate Expansion of American Timber Production order, plans to crank up the annual cut to 4 billion board-feet by 2028. This will be accomplished—in classic Trumpian fashion—by declaring an “emergency” on national forest lands that will allow environmental protections and regulations, including the National Environmental Protection Act, Endangered Species Act and Clean Water Act, to be eased or bypassed. In April, Rollins issued a memorandum doing just that, declaring that the threat of wildfires, insects and disease, invasive species, overgrown forests, the growing number of homes in the wildland-urban interface, and more than a century of rigorous fire suppression have contributed to what is now “a full-blown wildfire and forest health crisis.” Emergency determinations aren’t limited to Trump and friends; in 2023, the Biden administration identified almost 67 million acres of national forest lands as being under a high or very high fire risk, thus qualifying as an “emergency situation” under the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act. Rollins, however, vastly expanded the “emergency situation” acreage to almost 113 million acres, or 59 percent of all Forest Service lands. This allows the agency to use streamlined environmental reviews and “expedited” tribal consultation time frames to “carry out authorized emergency actions,” ranging from commercial harvesting of damaged trees to removing “hazardous fuels” to reconstructing existing utility lines. Meanwhile, the administration has announced plans to consolidate all federal wildfire fighting duties under the Interior Department. This would completely zero out the Forest Service’s $2.4 billion wildland fire management budget, sowing even more confusion and chaos. The administration also plans to slash staff and budgets in other parts of the agency, further compromising its ability to carry out its mission. The so-called Department of Government Efficiency fired about 3,400 Forest Service employees, or more than 10 percent of the agency’s total workforce, earlier this year. And the administration has proposed cutting the agency’s operations budget, which includes salaries, by 34 percent in fiscal 2026, which will most likely necessitate further reductions in force. It would also cut the national forest system and capital improvement and maintenance budgets by 21 percent and 48 percent respectively. The goal, it seems, is to cripple the agency with both direct and indirect blows. The result, if the administration succeeds, will be a diminished Forest Service that would be unrecognizable to Gifford Pinchot.

Two climate scientists on how to use emotion in the climate crisis

From anger to hope, Kate Marvel and Tim Lenton explain how to tackle the tricky feelings aroused by climate change and harness them to take action

With emissions still rising, how do we feel hope for the future?Qilai Shen/Bloomberg via Getty Images With dire environmental warnings and extreme weather events in the news almost every day, it can be tempting to simply avoid thinking about the climate crisis. But how do climate scientists, who must grapple with the harsh reality of our changing planet every day, cope? What can they teach us about processing the powerful emotions provoked by escalating climate change? And are there ways we can use these feelings to our advantage? New Scientist recently sat down with New York-based climate scientist Kate Marvel and Tim Lenton, a climate scientist at the University of Exeter, UK. Both have spent years modelling how our planet may react to increasing greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere, and both have recently published books that distil their perspectives on how best to engage with, and tackle, the climate emergency. At first glance, these are two quite different books. Human Nature, by Marvel, is a series of essays exploring the science of climate change, each centred on a different emotional response to the crisis. By contrast, Lenton’s book, Positive Tipping Points, prioritises taking action over introspection. It makes a persuasive case that a radical, systemic shift to a cleaner world is possible with the right social, economic and technological interventions. At their heart, though, both books are about how to embrace our emotions around climate change so we can reframe our thinking and actions. In this conversation, Lenton and Marvel reveal why we should feel angry, fearful, proud and hopeful all at once about our future on Earth. Rowan Hooper: Kate, your book is about nine ways to feel about our changing planet. Can we start with anger? Kate Marvel: The anger chapter was one of the easiest ones to write. What I wanted to talk about was the history of how we discovered climate change was happening. The thing that makes me really angry is that the history of scientists finding stuff out is intertwined with the history of people lying about it. I tell this story of a research group. They’re trying to establish that most of the excess carbon dioxide in the atmosphere comes from fossil fuels, and they design these really creative experiments to prove that. They have a large ship that’s going around, taking measurements of the ocean. And eventually they develop a climate model that has made extremely accurate projections in retrospect. You know who did all of that? It was Exxon. That does make me very angry. The fact that they knew. RH: Can anger be motivating? KM: I hope so. It can be really easy to go down a bad path where all you are is angry. Social media definitely incentivises this, where you’re fed more and more outrage, but it’s not productive outrage. RH: Your book also covers wonder, guilt, fear, grief, surprise, pride, hope and love. Can you talk us through how you processed these emotions? KM: What I wanted to do is embrace the fact there is no one way to feel about climate change. I was getting really frustrated when I was reading things that were designed to elicit a single emotion. Either, just be afraid, or just be angry, or just be hopeful. That didn’t feel very useful to me. I wanted to acknowledge that if you live on planet Earth, you have a conflict of interest. You care about what happens to this place. Because everybody that you know lives here. Tim Lenton studies “tipping points” in ecosystems that could affect the wider climateUniversity of Exeter RH: Tim, how do you find dealing with the emotions that come with studying climate change? Tim Lenton: I’ve been studying climate tipping points that could be really bad, really nasty. And arguably some of them are starting to unfold. I mean, we’re losing tropical coral reefs that up to half a billion people in the world depend on for their livelihoods. I’ve been staring this stuff down for nearly 20 years. So, I just found I had to use the mental toolkit I had of understanding complex systems to try to see if I could find plausible grounds for hope. Could we build a credible case that we could accelerate the change we need to get out of trouble? It took doing the research on the book to see that there was evidence that this is possible, and I wasn’t just going to delude myself with naive hope. RH: So it’s rational, usable hope? TL: It’s conditional optimism. I’m optimistic on the basis that some people are going to read the book, and some fraction of them will join me on the same journey. History teaches us that it only needs a fraction of people to change to ultimately tip everyone to change. Madeleine Cuff: Tim, much of your career has focused on this idea of tipping points. For those who are new to the concept, what are they? TL: Tipping points are those moments where a small change makes a big difference to the state or the fate of some system. For the bad ones in the climate, we know that there are large parts of the Earth system – major ice sheets, aspects of the ocean circulation, big bits of the biosphere – that have what we call alternative stable states. And they can be tipped from one state into another. We could potentially tip the Amazon rainforest into a different degraded forest or savannah state, for example. MC: What is a positive tipping point? TL: I’m drawing on over half a century of scholarship in different fields that shows you can have tipping points in social change. We’re all familiar with the idea of political revolutions popping up and protests popping up seemingly out of nowhere and exploding in size. But history also teaches us that sometimes you get abrupt and hard-to-reverse changes in technology. There are tipping points where one new technology will take over from an existing one. RH: The obvious climate example I’m thinking of is electric vehicles. And, of course, solar is so cheap now that it’s really taking off. How do we bring about positive tipping points? TL: We have to think about what actions can bring forward the positive tipping points, accepting that we need to be going more than five times faster than we are at decarbonising the economy. Luckily, each of us has agency to do something about this. At the most basic level, maybe we can be an adopter of new behaviour, such as eating less meat, or adopting a new technology like EVs or solar panels. We’ve probably also got a pension fund, and we should be asking hard questions about where that’s invested. The story of positive tipping points that have already happened starts with social activists or innovators. The people who have a passion to develop the core new technology, or activists who want to create change and see that possibility before everybody else. In her research, Kate Marvel tries to better model our planet’s changing climateRoy Rochlin/Getty Images MC: Kate, we’ve talked a little bit about the negative emotions that come with thinking about climate change. But what about the impact of positive emotions? What role can they play in inspiring positive action? KM: I started the book with the emotion wonder because, when you take a step back, just thinking about this planet that we live on and the fact that we understand it at all, that’s incredible. It’s a really useful tool for making connections and starting conversations. A lot of times, when I tell people I’m a climate scientist, they assume I’m immediately going to start scolding them. But if you start out with wonder, if you start out a conversation with: “Did you know the Earth’s water is probably older than the Earth itself?” people are going to say: “Oh wait, that’s amazing.” And they are going to be more likely to talk to you. Embracing a wide spectrum of emotions is useful as a communications strategy. There is support for feeling these emotions in the scientific and social scientific literature. There is a sense of pride we can feel in doing the hard work. There is deep satisfaction in making change. The social science literature also says that love is probably the most powerful motivating factor in climate action. People are motivated to act because they love their communities, their families, their children. We know how powerful that emotion is. I have a whole chapter on hope, even though I have a very complicated relationship to hope. I feel like when people always ask me: “Do you hope we can solve climate change?” that, for me, is like asking, do you hope you can clean your bathroom? That’s a silly question. You know what to do, just go clean your bathroom. As Tim says, we have so many of the solutions we need. We are on these trajectories already. We just need to push them over the precipice. We need to get past that social tipping point. RH: We have to face up to these emotions, don’t we? Maybe that’s one reason why we haven’t really got to grips with the problem – it’s too big for us to face. KM: Totally. I think about this stuff all day every day, and I still don’t really understand it. I can’t fit it into my head. This is a problem that is caused by basically every industrial human activity. And because CO2 and other greenhouse gases are well mixed in the atmosphere, it is affecting literally every aspect of life on this planet. Trying to boil that down to something very glib and manageable is just not possible. It is the work of a lifetime, or many lifetimes, to really come to terms with what this is and what this means, and what we do about it. Most Americans are concerned about climate change and want the US government to do something. But when you look at the polls, most Americans think other Americans do not think that. So that, I think, is why one of the most powerful things that an individual can do regarding climate change is to talk about it. Because when you talk about it, you realise, maybe I’m not so much of an individual after all. Maybe I’m not alone. RH: What do you want people to do after reading your books? KM: I would like people to think about how to tell climate stories that resonate with themselves, with their own community, with the people who will listen to them because of who they are and what they bring to the table. TL: I’m hoping the readers are feeling empowered to act, in what might have beforehand been feeling like a very scary, disempowering situation. I’d like them instead to feel a sense of agency. This is an edited version of an interview that originally took place on New Scientist‘s The World, the Universe and Us podcast What on earth can we do about climate change? See Matt Winning explain how to dispel the despair and take action on 18 October newscientist.com/nslmag

America's blame game over Canada's wildfire smoke misses the point, experts say

US officials have blamed Canada for not doing enough to stop its wildfire smoke from wafting south. Climate experts say it’s not so simple.

America's blame game over Canada's wildfire smoke misses the point, experts sayNadine YousifSenior Canada reporterGetty ImagesSmoke from Canada's wildfires have drifted south to the US several times this summer, clouding the sky with an orange haze. As deadly wildfires raged in the Canadian province of Manitoba this summer, Republican lawmakers in nearby US states penned letters asking that Canada be held accountable for the smoke drifting south."Our skies are being choked by wildfire smoke we didn't start and can't control," wrote Calvin Callahan, a Republican state representative from Wisconsin, in a letter dated early August.Callahan, along with lawmakers from Iowa, Minnesota and North Dakota, filed a formal complaint with the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) urging an investigation into Canada's wildfire management.Manitoba premier Wab Kinew quickly condemned the move, accusing the lawmakers of throwing a "timber tantrum" and playing "political games".By August, the wildfires had scorched more than two million acres in Manitoba, forced thousands to evacuate, and killed two people – a married couple who authorities said were trapped by fast-moving flames around their family home. As September draws to a close, data shows that 2025 is on track to be Canada's second-worst wildfire season on record.A study published in the Nature journal in September has revealed that smoke from Canada's wildfires has also had far-reaching, fatal consequences. It estimates that the 2023 wildfires - the country's worst on record by area burned - caused more than 87,500 acute and premature deaths worldwide, including 4,100 acute, smoke-related deaths in the US and over 22,000 premature deaths in Europe.Wildfire smoke contains PM2.5 - a type of air pollution - that is known to trigger inflammation in the body. It can exacerbate conditions like asthma and heart disease, and, in some causes, can damage neural connections in the brain."These are big numbers," said Michael Brauer, a professor at the University of British Columbia who co-authored the study. He added the findings show wildfire smoke should be treated as a serious health issue, akin to breast cancer or prostate cancer.For some American lawmakers, the blame falls squarely on Canada. "Canada's failure to contain massive wildfires," Callahan wrote in August, "has harmed the health and quality of life of more than 20 million Americans in the Midwest."Their complaints raise the question: Could Canada be doing more to curb its wildfires – and by extension, their smoke?Climate and fire experts in both countries told the BBC that the answer is largely no. "Until we as a global society deal with human-cased climate change, we're going to have this problem," said Mike Flannigan, an emergency management and fire science expert at Thompson Rivers University in British Columbia.Gallo Images/Orbital Horizon/Copernicus Sentinel Data 2025Wildfire smoke can often travel hundreds of thousands of miles. A sattelite image here from August shows smoke from a fire in Newfoundland drifting over the Atlantic Ocean.Metrics show Canada's wildfires, a natural part of its vast boreal forest, have worsened in recent years. Fire season now starts earlier, ends later, and burns more land on average. The 2023 fires razed 15 million hectares (37 million acres) – an area larger than England – while the 2025 blazes have so far burned 8.7 million hectares (21.5 million acres).As of mid-September, there are still more than 500 fires burning, mostly in British Columbia and Manitoba, according to the Canadian Interagency Forest Fire Centre.Roughly half of Canada's wildfires are sparked by lightning, while the rest stem from human activity, data from the National Forestry Database shows. Experts warn that hotter temperatures are making the land drier and more prone to ignition.Wildfires are not only worsening in Canada. The US has recently seen some of its most damaging blazes, including the 2023 Hawaii wildfires that killed at least 102 people, and the Palisades fire in January, the most destructive in Los Angeles history.Both countries have struggled to keep pace, often sharing firefighting resources. Canadian water bombers were deployed in California this year, while more than 600 US firefighters travelled north to assist Canada, according to the US Forest Service.In Canada, strained resources – and worsening fires – have fuelled calls for a national firefighting service. Wildfire emergency response is currently handled separately by each of the provinces and territories."The system we have right now worked 40 years ago. Today? Not so much," argued Mr Flannigan.Others propose controlled burns, a practice used in Australia and by indigenous communities, as a solution, though these fires would still generate smoke. Some argue for better clearing of flammable material in forests and near towns, or investing in new technology that can help detect wildfires faster.Some of that work is already underway. In August, Canada pledged more than $47m for research projects to help communities better prepare for and mitigate wildfires.Getty ImagesMajor Canadian cities, like Vancouver, have also been dealing with wildfire smoke. Still, experts like Jen Beverly, a wildland fire professor at the University of Alberta, warn there is little Canada can do to prevent wildfires altogether."These are high intensity fire ecosystems" in Canada, she said, that are different from fires in Australia or the US. "We have very difficult fires to manage under extreme conditions, and we're seeing more of those because of climate change."With a warmer climate, Prof Beverly said attention should be paid to pollution. She noted that the US is the second-worst carbon emitter in the world behind China. "I mean, we should be blaming them for the problem," she argued.In recent months, the Trump administration has also rolled back environmental policies designed to reduce emissions, and has withdrawn the US from the Paris climate accords.Sheila Olmstead, an enviromental policy professor at Cornell University, noted that Canada and the US have a history of cooperation on pollution and climate, including an air quality agreement signed by the two in 1991 to address acid rain."It was a very clear framework for addressing the problem, and that's what seems to be missing here," Olmstead told the BBC. Both countries, she said, would benefit from working together on wildfires instead of trading blame.As for the EPA complaint, it is unclear what the agency could do to address the US lawmakers' concerns. In a statement to the BBC, the EPA said it is reviewing it "and will respond through appropriate channels".Prof Brauer said the data in his study shows that even though the fires are burning in Canada - often in remote areas - their impact can reach far beyond.The findings, he told the BBC, call for a re-framing of how the consequences of climate change are understood. "The effects of a warmer climate are localised, and there are winners and losers," Prof Brauer said. "But this is an illustration that some of these impacts are becoming global."He argued that the US lawmakers' complaints are an "unfortunate distraction," and that the focus should instead be on collaboration and learning how to "live with smoke"."This stuff isn't going away," Prof Brauer said, adding that there are ways to prevent future deaths if there is a will to adapt.

China, World’s Largest Carbon Polluting Nation, Announces New Climate Goal to Cut Emissions

China, the world’s largest carbon polluting nation, has announced a new climate fighting goal to cut emissions by 7% to 10% by 2035

UNITED NATIONS (AP) — As Earth keeps heating up and its weather gets more extreme, more than 100 world leaders lined up Wednesday to talk of increased urgency and the need for stronger efforts to curb the spewing of heat-trapping gases.But few large concrete national plans — especially from major polluters China, Europe and India — were unveiled despite a pressing deadline and sticky Wednesday warmth.With major international climate negotiations in Brazil 6½ weeks away, the United Nations Secretary-General Antonio Guterres convened a special leaders summit during the General Assembly to focus on climate change. The idea is to get the countries to submit warming-fighting plans that are stronger, incorporate them throughout their economies and have them in line with an international temperature limit goal that is fast slipping away from reality. “The science demands action. The law commands it. The economics compel it. And people are calling for it,” Guterres said in opening the Wednesday afternoon marathon session with 121 leaders scheduled to speak. ‘Here we must admit failure’ “Warming appears to be accelerating,” climate scientist Johan Rockstrom said in a science briefing that started the summit. “Here we must admit failure. Failure to protect peoples and nations from unmanageable impacts of human-induced climate change.”“We’re dangerously close to triggering fundamental and irreversible change,” Rockstrom said. Under the 2015 Paris climate accord, 195 nations are supposed to submit new more stringent five-year plans on how to curb carbon emissions from the burning of coal, oil and natural gas. Technically the deadline was in February and about 50 nations — responsible for one-quarter of the world's carbon emissions — have filed theirs, including Pakistan, Micronesia, Mongolia, Liberia and Vanuatu. All of those nations submitted on Wednesday. UN officials said countries really need to get their plans in by the end of the month so the U.N. can calculate how much more warming Earth is on track for if nations do what they promise.Before 2015, the world was on path for 4 degrees Celsius (7.2 degrees Fahrenheit) of warming since pre-industrial times, but now has trimmed that to 2.6 degrees Celsius (4.7 degrees Fahrenheit), Guterres said.Kenyan President William Ruto said Wednesday that climate change was both the single greatest threat and development opportunity facing Africa, with the right action making the difference between survival and devastation.Without urgent action on climate change the world is “walking blindfolded towards the abyss,” Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva said in a speech that opened the General Assembly on Tuesday.“Bombs and nuclear weapons will not protect us from the climate crisis,” said Lula, who will host the November climate negotiations in the Amazon city of Belem. He announced the launch of the Tropical Forest Forever Facility (TFFF), a billion dollar program aimed at compensating countries for keeping forests standing.José Raúl Mulino Quintero, the president of Panama, said that although his country is already one of the few that emits less carbon than it absorbs with its forests, he promised they would reduce their carbon emissions further by 2035. “We believe one can always take another step for sustainability for future generations,” Quintero said. He said Panama would restore almost 250,000 acres (100,000 hectares) of critical ecosystems including mangroves and watersheds, “because nature is our first line of defense against climate change.”The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Sept. 2025

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