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Although no one knows for
sure, climatologists at ASU and UA warn that Arizona could be
in a world of hurt if the temperatures continue to climb. What's
more, the worst effects aren't
thousands of years away - they're already on the horizon.
Warning: You'll find it easier
to sleep at night if you don't read this story. That's because the
issue of global warming can trigger all kinds of nightmares. Take
this quote, for example: "It may be that we're not going to solve
global warming, that the earth is going to become an ecological
disaster and, you know, somebody will visit in a few hundred million
years and find there were some intelligent beings who lived here for
a while, but they just couldn't handle the transition from being
hunter-gatherers to high technology."
The quote comes from Dr. Marty Hoffert, a physics professor who is
doing climate research at New York University. And then there's
this: "It may seem impossible to imagine that a technologically
advanced society could choose - in essence - to destroy itself, but
that's what we're in the process of doing."
That comes from Elizabeth Kolbert, a researcher who traveled the
world to study global warming and wrote about her findings in a
three-part series that was published in The New Yorker.
At ASU's new International Institute for Sustainability, where the
mission, literally, is to come up with a way to sustain life on
earth, the conclusion is basically the same. According to its
director, Dr. Charles Redman, "Sustainability is treating the earth
as if you intend to stay."
As ominous as all of that sounds, what's really alarming is that the
concerns aren't just for thousands of years from now - they're for
the near future. In fact, according to many scientists, some of the
effects are already being seen in the form of record-breaking heat
(Sept-ember was the hottest September on record in the U.S.),
super-in-tense hurricanes (Katrina, Rita and Wilma), never-ending
droughts (Arizona is in the middle of a six-year drought) and
melting glaciers (Glacier National Park could lose its glaciers by
2030).
All of this is especially meaningful in Arizona, a desert state that
hardly needs a hotter planet. And history helps make the point.
Consider the ancient Hohokams, who thrived in the Valley for a
thousand years. Although their disappearance is still a mystery,
many scientists now believe they were wiped out by a long-term
drought, which elevates the state's current drought to a new level
of concern.
Is history repeating itself? What if the drought lasts for another
20 years? What if the record temperatures just keep climbing until
human existence in the Valley is compromised? And what if the
forests can't survive and the groundwater disappears?
According to Dr. Jonathan Overpeck, a paleo-climatologist at UA,
there's no lack of potential nightmares. "We can turn Phoenix - and
Arizona - into the hottest place on earth," he says. "It's very hard
to see anything good for Arizona in global warming."
Every now and then the local
papers will run letters to the editor that claim that global warming
is nothing but a left-wing notion being used to bash President Bush.
And while it's true that the president is often criticized for his
stance on global warming, it's also true that he stands virtually
alone among world leaders in denying that global warming exists. In
fact, the United States has gone so far as to walk away from the
world's nearly unanimous effort to face the problem head on, despite
the mounting evidence that global warming is real.
For example, according to Elizabeth Kolbert, in the 27 years since
the first study of global warming was done, "volumes have been
written just on the history of efforts to draw attention to the
problem." In addition, the National Academy of Science has issued
nearly 200 re-ports on the issue. And, in 2003, the nation's largest
scientific organization - the American Geophysical Union - declared
that there's no longer any debate: "Natural influences cannot
explain the rapid increase in global near-surface temperatures."
President Bush, however, still isn't convinced. He pulled the U.S.
out of the Kyoto Protocol - the world's first attempt to limit
greenhouse gases and try to prevent the devastation of global
warming.
Despite the U.S. position, scientists predict that by the end of the
century - a mere 94 years - the earth will be hotter than it's been
in the last two million years, and the consequences will be
profound. For instance, two major climate models have concluded that
nearly doubling the carbon dioxide levels - which is expected to
occur by the middle of this century - will increase the earth's
temperature by anywhere from 6.3 degrees to 7.7 degrees. Although
that doesn't sound like much, especially in a state like Arizona,
which can experience drops of 20 or 30 degrees in a single day,
there are a couple of things that put those seemingly small numbers
in perspective.
First, the last time carbon dioxide concentrations were that high
was during the Eocene period, some 50 million years ago. In those
days, "crocodiles roamed Colorado and sea levels were nearly 300
feet higher than they are today," Kolbert writes. Secondly, "The
planet is now nearly as warm as it's been at any point in the last
420,000 years," Kolbert adds. "A possible consequence of even a
four- or five-degree temperature rise - on the low end of
projections for doubled carbon dioxide - is that the world will
enter a completely new climate regime, one in which modern humans
have no prior experience."
According to some projections, that could occur as early as 2100 -
within the potential lifetimes of today's children - and in Arizona,
the effects are already being felt.
"Certainly, Arizona isn't going to be a winner in global warming,"
says UA's Dr. Overpeck, who teaches graduate courses in paleo-climatology
and undergraduate courses in environmental biology.
Overpeck is considered one of Arizona's foremost climate experts,
and he thinks Arizona's drought - already in its sixth year - "is
probably the first of the global warming droughts." He also thinks
it could be a sign of things to come.
"Even in the absence of any human meddling, we're likely to have
droughts - one or two times a century," he says. "What worries me is
we could enter into a drought that lasts a lot longer. But our human
systems aren't designed to deal with droughts over five or six
years."
What's more, he adds, "Scientists feel global warming is likely to
increase the probability of droughts, and that they'd be more
frequent and longer. It's one of our major concerns."
In fact, drought is one of the three biggest concerns of scientists
today - the other two are a rise in temperature and increased
intensity of hurricanes. All three, it would seem, are already in
play. And things could get worse.
"We could be looking at a 20- to 30-year drought," says Lori Faeth,
one of Governor Janet Napolitano's policy advisors for natural
resources and the environment. "That certainly wouldn't be a good
thing. Its impacts, particularly on rural Arizona, would be huge. We
have the potential to lose our pine forests in Arizona. If someone
had suggested that three years ago, I'd have said 'no.' Now, we're
seeing it."
To be sure, a prolonged drought means even more severe forest fires,
and, as a result, a loss of habitat for wildlife. It also means
wells could go dry, and rural Arizona would have to look to new
economic engines - tourism will dry up with the loss of the state's
forests. And, according to experts, the dominoes will continue to
fall.
"The majority of scientists, elected officials and people in general
now have a consensus that global warming exists, but a vocal
minority still refuses to admit it," Faeth explains. "The
consequences of not addressing it, however, will ultimately cost
taxpayers."
ASU's Tony Brazel was the
state climatologist from 1979 to 1999. He says that in the last 50
years, the temperature in the Valley has climbed 10 degrees. "That
is huge," he stresses, adding that it's among the greatest
urban-warming increases in the world.
However, for now, that increase has little to do with global
warming. Instead, he says, the increase is a result of what he calls
the "urban heat island," a phenomenon that exists because of the
Valley's tens of thousands of acres of asphalt, concrete and
heat-absorbing rooftops.
The science is simple. As the sun beats down, all of the roads and
freeways and parking lots and sidewalks and playgrounds absorb the
heat. Then, when the sun goes down, that stored-up heat is released
into the night. That's the reason the Valley has seen such an
increase in nighttime and early-morning temperatures. When the sun
comes back up, the process starts all over again.
"I can see the day when our minimum temperature is 100 degrees,"
Brazel says. And it's not a bold prediction. The record minimum is
now 97 degrees, which means that on a given date, it never got
cooler than 97 degrees during a 24-hour period. What's more,
according to the Center for Environmental Studies at ASU, "urban
warming has doubled the 'misery hours' per day." Misery hours are
those hours in which the temperature is more than 100 degrees.
Fortunately, according to Brazel, there are some things that can be
done to reduce the urban heat island, among them are rubberized
asphalt, reflective roofing materials and more plantings. Global
warming, however, isn't so easy.
"I think we can do something about the urban heat island," Brazel
says. "But it's very hard to solve the problem of global warming -
it frustrates me to see it [caught up] in the political realm. We'll
never solve it politically."
"There is global warming," he adds, and he should know - he's seen
the effects of global warming firsthand. Brazel was a member of a
glacial mapping expedition in 1986. The glacier his team was
measuring had been mapped in 1948. What Brazel and the others found
38 years later was that the glacier had retreated by a half-mile.
"It shrunk a huge amount," he says.
According to Kolbert, that kind of decrease is common - all of the
world's major glaciers are diminishing, and those in Glacier
National Park are expected to vanish entirely by 2030. In addition,
the receding glaciers have a direct relationship to the temperature
of the oceans. Here's why: The glaciers and their permafrost reflect
the sun's heat, while the oceans absorb the heat. Therefore, a
smaller ice surface reflects less heat, forcing the ocean to absorb
more.
Brazel says he can envision the Valley becoming "unlivable" - too
hot, not enough water, economic decline, gas prices way up, people
move away - but he's working through ASU to achieve the opposite
result. "I just hope it remains a viable community with lots of
amenities and a good economy," he says.
Charles Redman, however, is more blunt when he says that the issue
needs to be addressed head on. As director of ASU's International
Institute for Sustainability, he says we're on the path to "hit a
wall sometime in 15 to 25 years."
And he's not just talking about the consequences of global warming,
he's talking about the consequences of all reckless decisions.
Consider this scenario: The Valley is made up of desert cities with
just so much water - underground and yearly runoffs. Maricopa County
now has about 3.5 million people, and there's enough water - if you
eliminate agriculture - to accommodate approximately 6.5 million
people. "And we'll get there," Redman predicts. But, he asks, what
happens when something goes wrong - a drought, a decrease in average
rainfall or an increase in temperature that puts additional demands
on water? And what happens if treatment plants are sabotaged or
pipelines fail?
"The more you stress the system," he says, "the less it can absorb
the shocks."
The Hohokams are a good
example of what Redman is talking about. "These were talented, good
folks who had the largest prehistoric irrigation system north of the
Andes," he says. "They had the second-largest prehistoric
aggregation of people in the Unit-ed States. They were here a long
time - about 1,000 years. They had a good track record, but they
obviously ran up against an increasingly tight situation.
Ultimately, they were pressed to the edge."
Perhaps there was too much salt in the ground from over-irrigating.
Maybe the soil was depleted from over-planting. Maybe they faced
floods. Or maybe it was a prolonged drought. Whatever it was, "they
were not in a position to face the shocks," Redman says. "This was a
cataclysm," he adds. "Do we face the same thing? I think we have a
lot more buffers than the Hohokams had, but a lot of our flex is
going away."
That's why instead of debating if there's global warming, he says
it's "time to get serious." Although he calls himself an "optimist,"
he "sees things happening here that are risky," and he hopes his
team at ASU will not only lead the way in pointing out the risks,
but also open up discussions and find solutions.
"If we're looking at a range of 15 to 20 years, we have to start
planning today," he stresses, "because we could face some serious
challenges to life as we like it."
His new institute, which he hopes will eventually become the
nation's first degree-granting school of sustainability, is using
the Valley of the Sun as its "living laboratory."
And what better place to study the effects of population growth on a
fragile ecosystem than Phoenix - since World War II, the Valley has
grown from a series of small towns to a mega complex of more than 3
million people. And within the next 20 years, the population of the
Valley is expected to double to 6 million or 7 million, which
underscores Redman's point that it's time for action.
Fortunately, Arizona could be in one of the best positions to deal
with what's to come. For starters, ASU has the "sustainability" of
the state on its front burner. In addition, UA has long been known
for its stellar expertise in water issues, the Valley's own Salt
River Project is a respected authority on water management, and
Governor Napolitano is credited with "getting it."
In fact, it was the governor who established the state's first-ever
drought management plan, and she is committed to working with all
factions to establish healthier forests in Arizona. She's also
working with neighboring states on various environmental issues, and
she created - by executive order - the Climate Change Advisory Group
to measure, forecast and report on greenhouse-gas emissions and
develop recommendations to reduce their effects.
But it's clear that Arizona has a long way to go, and not everybody
is on the same page. Only a few years ago, a bill was introduced in
the state Legislature to ignore the international ban on Freon. So,
indeed, there's a long way to go, and only time will tell if the
nightmare is just beginning, or whether the folks at ASU and
elsewhere can find a way to sustain life in the Valley of the Sun.
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