Will Global Warming Cook Arizona?

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.