“6And God said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water.” 7 So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so. 8 God called the vault “sky.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the second day.” – Genesis 1:6-8 (NIV)
Loosely interpreting the Book of Genesis, atmospheric rivers weren’t God’s first creative act, but they were maybe a close second. These days, scientists and broadcast meteorologists are all over the subject and its vivid name – which happens to be descriptive at the same time it conveys a whiff of danger. The term triggers the same shiver in a Californian that “tornadoes” provokes in an Oklahoman or the mention of hurricanes arouses in a Floridian. Today, December 23, one such atmospheric river is producing inches of rainfall and flooding in northern California. It is threatening more of the same for the middle and southern parts of the state over coming days. (Interested readers can access up-to-date information at NOAA’s Atmospheric Rivers Portal.) The current threat is only one in a continuing series. Last week a similar atmospheric-river event pummeled the Pacific Northwest (see also here).
Of course, atmospheric rivers are not the world’s or even the Nation’s only flooding threat, and the Pacific Northwest is not the only location at risk. Three weeks ago, cyclonic flooding focused minds throughout south and southeast Asia (devastating rainfall in Asia claims hundreds of lives). New York Times coverage of the events included this summary: Three cyclones happened simultaneously across South and Southeast Asia this week, the latest of several huge storms that have battered the region, killing at least 1,350 people, with hundreds more still missing and millions displaced.
Since the start of this year, there have been at least 16 cyclones and dozens of depressions in the Pacific and Indian oceans. Even moderate cyclones now produce extreme rainfall and can cause widespread flooding, said Roxy Mathew Koll, a climate scientist at the Indian Institute of Tropical Meteorology.
“It is the rainfall and the cascading impacts — landslides and flash floods — that stand out this year, not necessarily the number of storms,” Dr. Koll said.
These events, and others like them, have prompted some to speak of a new era of floods.
This past summer, NBC News observed that the U.S. had been rocked by four 1-in-1,000-year storms in less than a week(including the Guadalupe River flooding event over the Independence Day weekend).
Earlier this month, another NYTimes piece raised similar concerns about the desert Middle East: Why floods threaten one of the dryest places in the world.
Contributing causes to such departures from the norm are many and varied. One example receiving much publicity these days – possible effects of global climate change on the hydrologic cycle. Another, which my hydrologist- and geologist friends tend to emphasize, is that the historical records available for most sites worldwide aren’t sufficiently long. With oversimplification, over a 100,000-year period, a once-in-a-1000-year rainfall doesn’t happen once every thousand years, roughly equally spaced. If we had actual records, we’d discover that thousands of quiet years would separate irregular outbreaks of such events across the period.
Problem is, such extreme rainfalls are not mere geophysical curiosities. Their impacts on human life are dire – that is; consequential, and requiring immediate response. In every instance, the loss of life is unacceptably large, with effects beyond mere dollar value. But that’s just the start. For every life lost, dozens more are shattered. Property damage and economic disruption are usually monetized, but accompanying these statistics are other losses – with respect to quality of life, jobs, schools, physical and mental well-being, community social fabric, aspirations, hope itself.
Social safety nets designed and nominally available to compensate survivors for losses are woefully inadequate. What’s more, those safety nets are fraying. In June, the administration announced an intent to dismantle and reduce the size of FEMA, devolving responsibility for hazard mitigation and recovery back to the states. (A FEMA Review Council had been ready to release detailed guidance along these lines earlier in the month, but withdrew its report after a leaked version caused an outcry.)
Appreciation for the scale of natural-hazard risk to property is growing. As a result, riverine- and coastal floodplain property insurance and reinsurance rates are rising rapidly, even as the nominal values of such properties are decreasing; as a result, Susan Crawford, in her excellent Substack blog Moving Day, drives home the point in her November piece New data shows insurance costs rising and home values sinking as climate risks grow.
As a result, increasing numbers of owners of such properties are finding that their mortgages are underwater. That is, they owe more than the risk-devalued worth of their property.
Underwater loans? These are more than just a problem for a few unlucky individuals. Vulnerability of critical urban infrastructure to floods puts the viability of entire cities at risk. Take New York City. As noted recently by the Washington Post, The NYC subway is drowning. Here’s how to save it. But New York is not alone. The article’s subtitle states that Subway systems around the world are struggling to cope with flooding as the planet warms. London, Tokyo, and Zhengzhou are specifically mentioned.
The NYT subway system has expenses hovering around $20B/year. The system operates in deficit; fares recover only half that figure. In this frame, the costs of needed flood protection are enormous (one US Army Corps of Engineers study puts the estimate at some $50B. By contrast, New York’s Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) plans to invest $6B in flood resilience over ten years. Other MTA renovations and efforts from other NYC agencies may contribute to the total needed; NYC is investing another $10B in improvements to its sewage system, for example. But comparison paints a picture of too little, too late.
The NYC economy is huge, some $2.7 trillion dollars per year, some 10% of US GDP (!). Losses occasioned by subway shutdowns alone, such as occurred in the face of a 2015 snowstorm, were put at $200M/day (and that’s apart from any costs necessary to repair and bring the system back to operation). It might seem that the incentives and money should be there. Property tax increases would seem to be one solution. But the recent mayoral campaign and outcome suggest that New Yorkers do not see their city as affordable. Costs of living and doing business there are prompting employees and their employers to consider relocation; resistance to mooted tax increases is high.
Following Hurricane Sandy in 2012, the city of New York received $15B in federal aid; following FEMA realignment, such levels of aid may not be forthcoming the next time around. The timing of any future disaster is uncertain (one of the barriers to action). But as New York has allowed its critical infrastructure to age and weaken, the threat is no longer confined to rare, once-a-century type events. Garden-variety heavy rains have become a source of worry.
In these respects, New York City is hardly alone. Miami-area infrastructure, its roadways and sewage system, are vulnerable to heavy rains, not only those resulting from hurricanes. Each and every day, wherever you live, similar flooding disasters are drawing one day closer to a city near you.
Hmm. Where to find a bright spot in all this? Susan Crawford, again from her Substack blog Moving Day, offers one, entitled A small state with a big climate plan. Her narrative focuses on Rhode Island, but her lessons – about governance, planning, novel financing methods and more – are generalizable.
