on the Lower Colorado, the weekly human hydrograph

I love this:

Thursday is the lowest release for the week, so starting late Thursday the water begins to drop in the river, with the lowest flows on Saturday. If you are a recreational water user — skiing, fishing, pleasure boating, or jet skiing — less water means more sandbars or exposed debris to avoid. You may ask why the releases are not kept at a uniform flow? Farmers are people, too, with families and other responsibilities. Irrigations are scheduled so that they can also enjoy other activities on weekends. By Monday morning, water releases are at their full flow for the week.

the long shadow of Marc Reisner and Cadillac Desert

Water is for Fighting Over

Water is for Fighting Over

It is impossible, I have found, to write seriously about water in the western United States without being in conversation with the late Marc Reisner and his classic Cadillac Desert, published thirty years ago. It’s assessment of our problems is foundational, and even if I disagree with some of what he had to say (as I do), Cadillac Desert is one of the great American books, and I must assume that most people who read me have already read him.

Henry Brean did a nice piece this morning in the Las Vegas Review Journal about my new book Water is For Fighting OverHere’s Henry’s kicker:

Most books about the Colorado River offer a pessimistic view, including the seminal work on the subject, Marc Reisner’s “Cadillac Desert.”

Fleck jokes that his book is more like “Volvo Desert.” The future river he envisions is sturdy, reliable and built to survive a crash.

And then there is this kind review just posted on Amazon:

“Water is for Fighting Over” is worthy of placement on the shelf next to “Cadillac Desert.”

Cannot escape Reisner’s shadow.

The University of New Mexico Water Resources Program: playing water management’s long game

On the Public Record posted yesterday soliciting water management recommendations for the new presidential administration (and offering some of their own). As happens with that smart blog and audience, cool ideas quickly emerged – better use of remote sensing to measure water use in something closer to real time, municipal leak detection, planning grants for local-level water management, and on. I offered this:

Fund educational opportunities in technical and policy and management skills to build capacity among the next generation of water managers, with special emphasis on members of currently under-represented communities. So that all the cool stuff other people are suggesting in this thread can be well used/executed.

I’ve been thinking about this issue a lot in the year and a half since I left a career in newspaper journalism and began heading down this strange new path I’m on. I left to write a book, because I’ve been a journalist all my life and that’s what one does. But as I was working on the book, holed up in an office in the little corner of the University of New Mexico economics building occupied by UNM’s Water Resources Program, I was increasingly struck by the opportunity I’d stumbled into.

UNM water resources students measuring the Rio Grande

UNM water resources students measuring the Rio Grande

Let me explain the WRP.

We’re a small program that grants interdisciplinary masters degrees in water management. We provide students with a grounding in both the technical aspects of water management – hydrology, climate, geochemistry, modeling – as well as the policy aspects, stuff like law and governance. If you look around New Mexico water management, you see our graduates’ fingerprints on things that matter. Santa Fe’s Buckman Direct Diversion, which helped that city diversify its water portfolio and reduce its dependence on groundwater? One of our grads helped develop that project. Albuquerque’s effort to expand aquifer storage and recovery? Yup, one of our grads. The struggle to get the Air Force to deal with groundwater contamination from an old fuel spill on Albuquerque’s south side? Quietly, one of our grads tenaciously pushed that rock up the hill.

Water management’s grand gestures are the ones we notice (Hoover Dam, the San Juan-Chama Project, Adams Tunnel), but mostly water management is the accumulation of zillions of smaller things done by motivated people who care. In working with Water Resource Program students, I began to see the opportunity to help with that part of the project of making water management work. The students are smart and engaged and passionate, which offers enormous leverage.

As I was finishing the book late last year, I jumped at the chance to expand my teaching role in the program. One thing led to another, and I began this week as the program’s director.

This seems a good use of my time.

Despite drought, the value of California farmland is rising

California’s epic, headline-grabbing drought has not dented the value of the state’s farm land.

According to a new USDA dataset released today, California cropland rose 2.1 percent in value per acre in the last year, and 16 percent since 2012. Despite drought, California cropland remains at $10,900 an acre the second most valuable in the nation behind New Jersey. (New Jersey? Ag econ nerds please help in the comments.)

One might hypothesize that groundwater pumping on irrigated land is the explanation. (I did, in fact, so hypothesize.) But one’s hypothesis might be wrong. Non-irrigated California cropland is rising more quickly in value than irrigated land – but both are going up.

 

I’m the new director of the University of New Mexico Water Resources Program

When Bob Berrens invited me three years ago to join him in teaching a class on contemporary issues in water management in the University of New Mexico’s Water Resources Program, I was hesitant. I was pretty busy – working full time at the Albuquerque Journal, trying to write a book. But heck, it seemed like fun, so I figured I’d give it a shot. (My joke has been that the real hook was university library privileges. There is truth in that joke.)

One thing led to another. The Water Resources Program gave me an office, I quit my newspaper job to finish the book, I expanded my teaching role, I started working more closely with the program’s terrific graduate students, and now this:

John Fleck has been appointed director of The University of New Mexico’s Water Resources Program. Fleck is Professor of Practice in water policy and governance in the university’s Department of Economics, and has been the Water Resources Program’s writer-in-residence since January 2015.

“UNM’s Water Resources Program is a unique interdisciplinary program with faculty contributors from across campus,” said UNM Dean of Graduate Studies Julie Coonrod. “While many faculty members work across disciplines, John Fleck truly thinks in an interdisciplinary way. This rare quality, along with his highly-regarded reputation in the western water community will provide strong leadership for this graduate program.”

Lower Colorado water consumption lowest since 1992

update: A correction to this post here, thanks to some excellent journalistic sleuthing by Tony Davis.

****

The Bureau of Reclamation’s Aug. 1 Colorado River Lower Basin Water Use Forecast (pdf here) passed a symbolically important milestone: at a forecast consumptive use of 6.998 million acre feet, if the forecast holds, this will be the first time Lower Basin use has been below 7 million acre feet since 1992.

Water use in 1992 was down because it was an extremely wet year. In Arizona, for example, it was one of the three wettest years in the last half century. This year has been dry. Water use is down because water users across the basin are cranking down their water use to try to keep Lake Mead from dropping further.

Here’s the data, with consumptive use in Nevada, Arizona, and California, plus reservoir evaporation in Lake Mead and the major reservoirs downstream – 7.858 million acre feet this year, compared to 7.806 maf in 1992. It’s a 17.5 percent decrease in water consumption since the 2002 peak:

Lower Colorado River Basin water consumption

Lower Colorado River Basin water consumption

Since 1992, the population in the major metropolitan areas served with Lower Basin water – LA-San Diego, central Arizona, and Las Vegas – has grown from 19 million to 26 million. That’s pretty striking – 7 million more people using essentially the same amount of water.

One of the central arguments of my new book Water is For Fighting Over is that when people have less water, they use less water – that we have the ability to significantly reduce our water use in the arid West and still thrive, and that we are in fact already making significant progress. That’s what’s happening in the graph above.

Climate science identifies the problem – it can’t tell us what to do in response

Writing in the latest Nature Geoscience, Reiner Grundmann of the University of Nottingham calls out a problem that I wish I’d understood years ago about our understanding of, and response to, climate change and the family of problems to which it is connected. (I hope that link works, let me know in the comments if it doesn’t.)

Some top notch scientists over a number of decades have characterized and clarified the physical science part of the problem, and it’s only natural to then turn to those scientists in our discussion of what to do about it. But as Grundmann argues (and as I came to learn only slowly and painfully), the “what to do about it” stuff lies in a domain different from the physical sciences:

Climate change is a challenge, as acknowledged by the various proposals. Nevertheless, climate science provides no help to meet this challenge, once it has been acknowledged. The essential expertise for making progress with climate change mitigation and adaptation lies in the social sciences, including economics but also including a variety of other disciplines such as cultural studies, history, sociology and policy research. We need to understand the different social contexts of climate policy before we can find pragmatic steps to manage the problem. It is high time the expertise of the social sciences is recognized and assembled.

This line of argument maps nicely to the issues I grappled with in writing my book on water scarcity in the western United States. It’s why I turn to the human disciplines – law, policy studies, political science, economics – in talking about what the solutions might look like.

What happens to local weather/climate when cities tear out lawns?

Climatic consequences of adopting drought tolerant vegetation over Los Angeles as a response to California drought, Vahmani and Ban-Weiss, GRL, July 2016 found that when you tear out lawns, it gets warmer during the day but that overnight cooling could more than balance things out:

Transforming lawns to drought tolerant vegetation resulted in daytime warming of up to 1.9?° C, largely due to decreases in irrigation that shifted surface energy partitioning toward higher sensible and lower latent heat flux. During nighttime, however, adopting drought tolerant vegetation caused mean cooling of about 3?° C, due to changes in soil thermodynamic properties and heat exchange dynamics between the surface and ground. Our results show that nocturnal cooling effects, which are larger in magnitude and of great importance for public health during heat events, could counterbalance the daytime warming attributed to the studied water conservation strategy.

This being L.A., sea breezes are of course important too, which means that of course it’s complicated and hard to generalize. h/t Kevin Anchuaitis.

In which Sandra Postel has some nice things to say about my book

I wanna tell you the story of the time I met Sandra Postel in a dry riverbed in the deserts of Mexico.

When I first started writing about water more than two decades ago, the work of the water scholar Postel was both informative and inspirational. As much as anything I came across, her work convinced me that dealing with water scarcity was a problem that mattered, that was worth’s a life’s attention. Which is why this, on the back cover of my book, means so much:

Sandra Postel on "Water is For Fighting Over"

Sandra Postel on “Water is For Fighting Over”

In the many years since, I came to write a lot about water, and Sandra moved to New Mexico, we’d traded emails, but we’d never actually met in person until one warm day in the spring of 2014, in a dry sandy riverbed on the Sonora-Baja border in northern Mexico.

A crowd was gathering, as the people of San Luis waited for the water to arrive, the environmental “pulse flow”. A woman walked up to me, mistaking me for someone else, extending her hand in greeting: “Karl, nice to meet you, I’m Sandra Postel.”

“I’m not Karl,” I responded (it turned out we both were looking for the same Karl), “I’m John Fleck.” And for the next few hours, we shared the joy of the community of San Luis and the larger community of the Río Colorado as the water arrived in the normally dry riverbed. For all of us who were there, it was magical. As a journalist I live for the wonkish details of water measurement and legal minutiae, and then there are moments that will carry you away down the story. Such was the magic of the water flowing past San Luis. That day forms the rhetorical spine of my book, there at the beginning and there at the end.

So it’s a great joy to have Sandra’s kind words on the jacket.

Water is For Fighting Over and Other Myths About Water in the West officially goes on sale Sept. 1, but I keep hearing from friends and colleagues who’ve pre-ordered from Amazon or Island Press and say copies are beginning to trickle out.

New Mexico’s long history of not building dams on the Gila

Laura Paskus writes:

Almost 50 years ago, on June 14, 1967, four couples fired off a telegram from Las Cruces to Sen. Henry Jackson, a Democrat from Washington. Called “Scoop” by his pals, Jackson chaired the Senate committee looking at a bill to authorize the Central Arizona Project, a system of dams, canals and aqueducts on the Colorado River and its tributaries.

The bill would grant New Mexico some new water rights and also call for Hooker Dam. Planned for the Gila River, its reservoir would back into the nation’s first wilderness area, designated in 1924.

In the telegram, the couples registered their opposition to the dam. They complained that a lack of information was discouraging public participation. Building Hooker, they wrote, would violate the Wilderness Act.

We’re at it again, with a fresh discussion of a diversion that would take water from the Gila River in southwest New Mexico. Hooker and a persistent list of similar proposals, as Paskus explains, have foundered on the problem of high cost for little water. Critics expect the same thing to happen this time around, but the lure of water for human needs in a dry place like southwest New Mexico is strong.