Watching Washington burn is more than a wake-up call. It’s a moment of truth
This isn’t a wake-up call.
Rather, it’s akin to hitting the snooze button too many times before realizing you’ve blown it big time.
Western Washington is on fire. The West Coast is on fire. In recent days, Sumner, Graham, Enumclaw have all burned. As I type a “super-massive” smoke plume is making its way toward us.
First came the gusts of wind on Monday, then came the blazes and choking smoke. For a region unaccustomed to contending with such nightmares, the growing number of fires and scorched earth quickly turned apocalyptic.
People in Oregon and Washington have died, including a 1-year-old child taken by the Cold Springs Fire in Okanogan County. Houses have been lost to flames; towns have been evacuated and left in ruins.
For all of us, as we try to breathe and survive, the question presents itself in searing clarity:
Are we finally going to rise and shine, get out of bed and address a man-made climate crisis that has already altered our lives in ways that are difficult to comprehend?
Or, are we going to continue to hide under the covers, even though what we’ve seen this week should end the debate once and for all?
Making sure we answer the call is on all of us now.
There’s simply no more time for denial, rolling coal or the warmed over partisan fighting that has led us here.
On Tuesday, a day after fire had consumed more than 300,000 acres in Washington, Gov. Jay Inslee rightfully described the situation as a “heartbreaking event.”
Inslee also left little doubt about the state of the state, and its new potential to burn.
“We’re living in a new world — this is not the old Washington,” Inslee cautioned.
“A fire that you might’ve seen that was going to be OK over time is not OK any more because the conditions are so dry and are so hot because the climate has changed,” the governor continued. “This is a new world in forest and grassland fires that we have to be willing to recognize, and that’s why we are so sincere in our requests for people to help out in preventing these devastating losses.”
So what are we willing to do to prevent these losses, and what can we do, at this late stage in the game?
They are timely questions, because as Washington state climatologist Nick Bond noted this week, hot, dry summers and wet winters are what the future holds.
As part of the state Department of Natural Resources’ 20-year Forest Health Strategic Plan, the agency has taken proactive steps to reduce the risk of wildfires on more than 50,000 acres of state forest land every year. That means thinning unhealthy forests, clearing vegetation and carving out shaded fuel breaks that can stop a small fire from becoming a massive one.
All of that is very important. It’s also an effort DNR is ramping up, and by 2037 the goal is to have helped to protect 1.25 million acres.
Achieving that will take more funding, not to mention the will of politicians to make it happen.
We must demand both.
Beyond the halls of government, altering our behavior will be required — and fast.
While we were warned last week that east winds and hot, dry Labor Day conditions would create a tinderbox, it apparently wasn’t enough to stop the holiday campfires, cigarette butts and selfishness that set so much of the state ablaze.
Officials have described the number of simultaneous fires in Washington and Oregon as “unprecedented,” and there’s is no denying preventable human foolishness played a large part in that.
We must do better.
Most of all, one unmet challenge stands before us.
Man-made climate change is the accelerant we’ve knowingly doused on our surrounding environment for far too long, and the charred results of inaction speak for themselves.
We could be well on our way to fossil fuel disinvestment and the kind of carbon reduction that would really make a difference, but the truth is we’re not because we haven’t made it a priority and have instead settled for feigned uncertainty or disingenuous debates.
We must be better.
Like it or not, here’s where things stand:
To date — and despite the terrifying impacts — we’ve been unwilling to make the kind of policy changes to address this crisis. In Washington and along the West Coast, climate change didn’t start the fires, but it has provided ample kindling to fuel the devastation.
That’s the difference. That’s what has changed. That’s why summers are different now.
That is the challenge that stands before us.
So, will the wildfire season of 2020 mark a turning point?
While history suggests we probably shouldn’t hold our breath for anything but more smoke, we have to hope.
