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As reservoirs go dry, Mexico City and Bogotá are staring down ‘Day Zero’

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Thursday, May 23, 2024

In Mexico City, more and more residents are watching their taps go dry for hours a day. Even when water does flow, it often comes out dark brown and smells noxious. A former political leader is asking the public to “prioritize essential actions for survival” as the city’s key reservoirs run dry. Meanwhile, 2,000 miles south in the Colombian capital of Bogotá, reservoir levels are falling just as fast, and the city government has implemented rotating water shutoffs. The mayor has begged families to shower together and leave the city on weekends to cut down on water usage. The measures come as a so-called heat dome sitting atop Mexico is shattering temperature records in Central America, and both Central and South America are wasting beneath a drought driven by the climate phenomenon known as El Niño, which periodically brings exceptionally dry weather to the Southern Hemisphere. Droughts in the region have grown more intense thanks to warmer winter temperatures and long-term aridification fueled by climate change. The present dry spell has shriveled river systems in Mexico and Colombia and lowered water levels in the reservoirs that supply their growing cities. Officials in both cities have warned that, in June, their water systems might reach a “Day Zero” in which they fail altogether unless residents cut usage. In warning about the potential for a Day Zero in the water system, both cities are referencing the famous example set by Cape Town, South Africa, which made global headlines in 2018 when it almost ran out of water. The city was months away from a total collapse of its reservoir system when it mounted an unprecedented public awareness campaign and rolled out strict fees on water consumption. These measures succeeded in pulling the city back from the brink. Six years later, Cape Town stands as a success story in municipal crisis management, but experts say its playbook will be hard for Mexico City and Bogotá to replicate. Instead of focusing primarily on changing public behavior, these cities will need to make big investments to improve aging infrastructure and shore up their water supplies. How they fare in these endeavors will in turn inform future efforts to make the world’s fast-growing cities resilient to increasing climate volatility. “The bigger question, and what’s relevant for other cities, is now that we’ve experienced this, what can we do going forward to make sure that this doesn’t happen again?” said Johanna Brühl, a water expert at the nonprofit Environment for Development in South Africa who has studied Cape Town’s water crisis. Coining the very phrase “Day Zero” was part of Cape Town’s solution to a water crisis that many officials had seen coming for years. As reservoir levels fell between 2015 and 2017 amid a drought, city leaders released dozens of statements urging residents to reduce water usage, but no one paid much attention. Only in early 2018, when officials started talking in increasingly apocalyptic terms about a collapse of the municipal water system, did residents — and international media outlets — start to pay attention.  The city rolled out a set of measures to enforce cuts, including a tariff system that charged more thirsty users a higher price per gallon plus a door-knocking campaign to shame the biggest water hogs. But it was the rhetoric around Day Zero that seemed to be the most effective tool to slash water usage, experts who studied the crisis told Grist. When the local government warned that residents would have to pick up buckets of water from public collection points managed by the military, consumption plummeted. The effort to stave off a water crisis began to look like a grassroots movement, with residents sharing conservation tricks like flushing the toilet with water captured from the shower. By April 2018, water usage had fallen to about half of what it was three years earlier, a decline that astonished even city officials. As consumption dropped, the city pushed the estimated date of the apocalypse out by a few days, then a few weeks. When a big rain arrived in the early summer and began to refill the reservoirs, the government turned off the countdown altogether, declaring the crisis at a temporary end. “The big take-home point for any city in terms of navigating that kind of crisis is just to change the culture and to get the needle moving in the right direction,” said Eddie Andrews, the deputy mayor of Cape Town, who was a city council member during the Day Zero affair. “Culture is really important — making sure that you remain on message.” Political leaders in Mexico and Colombia have both been sending out the same dire warnings: One prominent Mexico City politician warned in March that the city is “at the edge of the precipice,” and last month Bogotá’s mayor announced that the city had only around 50 days of water remaining, with residents looking at “weeks and months” of water rationing.  A police officer inspects an empty public swimming pool in Cape Town, South Africa. The city government managed to beat a drought crisis in 2018 by reducing domestic water usage to unprecedented lows. Morgana Wingard / Getty Images But Cape Town’s grassroots conservation success will be difficult to replicate. In order for such messaging to work, residents have to trust their government. Indeed, other large South African cities like Johannesburg and Durban have struggled to spur usage reductions during periods of water stress, in part because they are governed by the African National Congress, or ANC. While the ANC has been the country’s dominant political party since its heroic 1994 victory over the apartheid regime that had ruled South Africa for decades, popular enthusiasm for the party has plummeted in recent years as corruption scandals have engulfed its top ranks. Unlike the governing bodies of South Africa’s other major cities, the Western Cape government that oversees Cape Town is led by an opposition party that enjoys far more local support than the ANC. Manuel Perló Cohen, a professor who studies water infrastructure at the National Autonomous University of Mexico in Mexico City, said the government in Mexico City doesn’t enjoy the same kind of goodwill, meaning the government’s available tools may be limited to things like mandatory water restrictions. “It won’t work here, because there’s a lack of confidence in the government,” he told Grist. “People don’t believe in most of what the government says, even if it’s the truth.” Mexico is just weeks away from a major election, and the incumbent leaders in Mexico City as well as the federal government have tried to downplay the water issues even as their opponents seize on it for campaign fodder.  To really have control over the future of its water, a city also needs to have control over its physical infrastructure. But Mexico City loses almost 40 percent of its municipal water to leakage from pipes and canals, one of the highest rates in the world. This means that residential conservation efforts can only have a limited effect on the overall water budget, according to Perló Cohen. The city has also seen a rise in water theft from canals and reservoir systems: Organized crime groups siphon off public water and use it to grow avocados or resell it to water-starved households at a high markup. Locals call this huachicoleo de agua, using a term coined to describe fuel theft. While the city government of Bogotá has both the public trust and the political power to implement rotating water shutoffs — which has helped protect reservoir levels — the city’s conservation campaign is lacking another crucial ingredient: enthusiasm. As in Cape Town, residents shared novel ways to reduce water usage during the first week of the crisis, but since then the local media has stopped devoting as much attention to the shutoffs. Water usage has begun to tick back up. “These types of campaigns are difficult to get across to people,” said Laura Bulbena, a Bogotá-based advocate with the environmental nonprofit World Resources Institute. “It’s rained a little in Bogotá, two weeks passed, and actually the numbers show that water consumption went up. So not only there isn’t enough reduction, there’s not enough water coming into the reservoirs.” But there are other lessons from Cape Town’s water crisis, ones that any city could follow. In its aftermath, the city diversified its water system and reduced reliance on the main reservoirs that shrank during the drought. Officials now plan to build multiple seawater-desalination plants and recharge groundwater aquifers with treated wastewater. This will put the city on far better footing for future dry spells. “Every single crisis presents opportunities,” said Andrews, the deputy mayor of Cape Town. “We’ve seen that you can’t just rely on the rainfall. You have to augment.” A tree trunk is visible on a now-dry section of the El Guavio reservoir near Bogotá, Colombia. Reservoirs across the country are emptying out thanks to a major drought caused by the El Niño weather pattern. Diego Cuevas / Getty Images Bogotá relies on reservoirs for almost its entire water supply, and officials had long believed that the reservoir system was resilient to drought. Now, they may change course and invest in alternate supplies. Experts say bringing in new water sources wouldn’t break the bank; the local water utility could tap the healthy underground aquifer beneath the city, and Bulbena’s team at World Resources Institute has shown that restoring a natural environment in the nearby Bogotá River could help clean that river’s water for drinking. “The water system is overall very good in Bogotá, but the city must invest in a backup system, because this El Niño system will probably be repeated frequently,” said Armando Sarmiento López, a professor of ecology at Javeriana University in Bogotá.  Alejandra Lopez Rodgriguez, a policy advocate at the Nature Conservancy in Mexico City, said that the government of that city could also fix its severe leakage problem and build wastewater treatment plants — if officials choose to prioritize those projects. “We have resources and we have access to financing,” she told Grist. “There are resources available. It just also takes a will and an interest to want to invest in these issues.” The Nature Conservancy runs a water investment fund in Mexico City that has financed conservation efforts in the pine forests surrounding the metropolis; these forests capture water and help recharge the city’s collapsing groundwater aquifers. Recharging aquifers and building desalination plants is one thing, but the water crises in these cities have also revealed a stark fact: For many of the poorest residents in a metropolis like Cape Town, clean water was never available in the first place.  The wealthy and middle-class areas of Cape Town receive piped water from reservoirs, but residents who live in the vast townships outside the city have to get water from communal standpipes — the very fate that so frightened middle-class residents of the city in the leadup to Day Zero. In the eastern neighborhoods of Mexico City, many taps have never released water for more than a few hours each day, according to Lopez Rodriguez, and much of that water is from contaminated sections of the aquifer. Lopez Rodriguez speculates that the crisis in Mexico City has drawn international attention because it has begun to affect upper-class neighborhoods that are accustomed to reliable water deliveries from the reservoir system. Even during the peak of the Day Zero affair, many of the worst-off residents of Cape Town pointed to the same disparity, said Richard Meissner, a professor of political science at the University of South Africa who has studied the city’s response to the 2018 drought. “I remember that some of the less affluent people in the city said that the campaign is aimed at the more affluent portions of Cape Town,” he said. “They said, ‘They don’t care about us, because for us every day is a Day Zero.’” This story was originally published by Grist with the headline As reservoirs go dry, Mexico City and Bogotá are staring down ‘Day Zero’ on May 23, 2024.

Cape Town, which beat a water crisis in 2018, holds lessons for cities grappling with an El Niño-fueled drought.

In Mexico City, more and more residents are watching their taps go dry for hours a day. Even when water does flow, it often comes out dark brown and smells noxious. A former political leader is asking the public to “prioritize essential actions for survival” as the city’s key reservoirs run dry. Meanwhile, 2,000 miles south in the Colombian capital of Bogotá, reservoir levels are falling just as fast, and the city government has implemented rotating water shutoffs. The mayor has begged families to shower together and leave the city on weekends to cut down on water usage.

The measures come as a so-called heat dome sitting atop Mexico is shattering temperature records in Central America, and both Central and South America are wasting beneath a drought driven by the climate phenomenon known as El Niño, which periodically brings exceptionally dry weather to the Southern Hemisphere. Droughts in the region have grown more intense thanks to warmer winter temperatures and long-term aridification fueled by climate change. The present dry spell has shriveled river systems in Mexico and Colombia and lowered water levels in the reservoirs that supply their growing cities. Officials in both cities have warned that, in June, their water systems might reach a “Day Zero” in which they fail altogether unless residents cut usage.

In warning about the potential for a Day Zero in the water system, both cities are referencing the famous example set by Cape Town, South Africa, which made global headlines in 2018 when it almost ran out of water. The city was months away from a total collapse of its reservoir system when it mounted an unprecedented public awareness campaign and rolled out strict fees on water consumption. These measures succeeded in pulling the city back from the brink.

Six years later, Cape Town stands as a success story in municipal crisis management, but experts say its playbook will be hard for Mexico City and Bogotá to replicate. Instead of focusing primarily on changing public behavior, these cities will need to make big investments to improve aging infrastructure and shore up their water supplies. How they fare in these endeavors will in turn inform future efforts to make the world’s fast-growing cities resilient to increasing climate volatility.

“The bigger question, and what’s relevant for other cities, is now that we’ve experienced this, what can we do going forward to make sure that this doesn’t happen again?” said Johanna Brühl, a water expert at the nonprofit Environment for Development in South Africa who has studied Cape Town’s water crisis.

Coining the very phrase “Day Zero” was part of Cape Town’s solution to a water crisis that many officials had seen coming for years. As reservoir levels fell between 2015 and 2017 amid a drought, city leaders released dozens of statements urging residents to reduce water usage, but no one paid much attention. Only in early 2018, when officials started talking in increasingly apocalyptic terms about a collapse of the municipal water system, did residents — and international media outlets — start to pay attention. 

The city rolled out a set of measures to enforce cuts, including a tariff system that charged more thirsty users a higher price per gallon plus a door-knocking campaign to shame the biggest water hogs. But it was the rhetoric around Day Zero that seemed to be the most effective tool to slash water usage, experts who studied the crisis told Grist. When the local government warned that residents would have to pick up buckets of water from public collection points managed by the military, consumption plummeted. The effort to stave off a water crisis began to look like a grassroots movement, with residents sharing conservation tricks like flushing the toilet with water captured from the shower.

By April 2018, water usage had fallen to about half of what it was three years earlier, a decline that astonished even city officials. As consumption dropped, the city pushed the estimated date of the apocalypse out by a few days, then a few weeks. When a big rain arrived in the early summer and began to refill the reservoirs, the government turned off the countdown altogether, declaring the crisis at a temporary end.

“The big take-home point for any city in terms of navigating that kind of crisis is just to change the culture and to get the needle moving in the right direction,” said Eddie Andrews, the deputy mayor of Cape Town, who was a city council member during the Day Zero affair. “Culture is really important — making sure that you remain on message.”

Political leaders in Mexico and Colombia have both been sending out the same dire warnings: One prominent Mexico City politician warned in March that the city is “at the edge of the precipice,” and last month Bogotá’s mayor announced that the city had only around 50 days of water remaining, with residents looking at “weeks and months” of water rationing. 

A police officer inspects an empty public swimming pool in Cape Town, South Africa. The city government managed to beat a drought crisis in 2018 by reducing domestic water usage to unprecedented lows.
A police officer inspects an empty public swimming pool in Cape Town, South Africa. The city government managed to beat a drought crisis in 2018 by reducing domestic water usage to unprecedented lows. Morgana Wingard / Getty Images

But Cape Town’s grassroots conservation success will be difficult to replicate. In order for such messaging to work, residents have to trust their government. Indeed, other large South African cities like Johannesburg and Durban have struggled to spur usage reductions during periods of water stress, in part because they are governed by the African National Congress, or ANC. While the ANC has been the country’s dominant political party since its heroic 1994 victory over the apartheid regime that had ruled South Africa for decades, popular enthusiasm for the party has plummeted in recent years as corruption scandals have engulfed its top ranks. Unlike the governing bodies of South Africa’s other major cities, the Western Cape government that oversees Cape Town is led by an opposition party that enjoys far more local support than the ANC.

Manuel Perló Cohen, a professor who studies water infrastructure at the National Autonomous University of Mexico in Mexico City, said the government in Mexico City doesn’t enjoy the same kind of goodwill, meaning the government’s available tools may be limited to things like mandatory water restrictions.

“It won’t work here, because there’s a lack of confidence in the government,” he told Grist. “People don’t believe in most of what the government says, even if it’s the truth.” Mexico is just weeks away from a major election, and the incumbent leaders in Mexico City as well as the federal government have tried to downplay the water issues even as their opponents seize on it for campaign fodder. 

To really have control over the future of its water, a city also needs to have control over its physical infrastructure. But Mexico City loses almost 40 percent of its municipal water to leakage from pipes and canals, one of the highest rates in the world. This means that residential conservation efforts can only have a limited effect on the overall water budget, according to Perló Cohen. The city has also seen a rise in water theft from canals and reservoir systems: Organized crime groups siphon off public water and use it to grow avocados or resell it to water-starved households at a high markup. Locals call this huachicoleo de agua, using a term coined to describe fuel theft.

While the city government of Bogotá has both the public trust and the political power to implement rotating water shutoffs — which has helped protect reservoir levels — the city’s conservation campaign is lacking another crucial ingredient: enthusiasm. As in Cape Town, residents shared novel ways to reduce water usage during the first week of the crisis, but since then the local media has stopped devoting as much attention to the shutoffs. Water usage has begun to tick back up.

“These types of campaigns are difficult to get across to people,” said Laura Bulbena, a Bogotá-based advocate with the environmental nonprofit World Resources Institute. “It’s rained a little in Bogotá, two weeks passed, and actually the numbers show that water consumption went up. So not only there isn’t enough reduction, there’s not enough water coming into the reservoirs.”

But there are other lessons from Cape Town’s water crisis, ones that any city could follow. In its aftermath, the city diversified its water system and reduced reliance on the main reservoirs that shrank during the drought. Officials now plan to build multiple seawater-desalination plants and recharge groundwater aquifers with treated wastewater. This will put the city on far better footing for future dry spells.

“Every single crisis presents opportunities,” said Andrews, the deputy mayor of Cape Town. “We’ve seen that you can’t just rely on the rainfall. You have to augment.”

A tree trunk lies on a now dry section of the El Guavio reservoir near Bogotá, Colombia. Reservoirs across the country are emptying out thanks to a major drought caused by the El Niño weather pattern.
A tree trunk is visible on a now-dry section of the El Guavio reservoir near Bogotá, Colombia. Reservoirs across the country are emptying out thanks to a major drought caused by the El Niño weather pattern. Diego Cuevas / Getty Images

Bogotá relies on reservoirs for almost its entire water supply, and officials had long believed that the reservoir system was resilient to drought. Now, they may change course and invest in alternate supplies. Experts say bringing in new water sources wouldn’t break the bank; the local water utility could tap the healthy underground aquifer beneath the city, and Bulbena’s team at World Resources Institute has shown that restoring a natural environment in the nearby Bogotá River could help clean that river’s water for drinking.

“The water system is overall very good in Bogotá, but the city must invest in a backup system, because this El Niño system will probably be repeated frequently,” said Armando Sarmiento López, a professor of ecology at Javeriana University in Bogotá. 

Alejandra Lopez Rodgriguez, a policy advocate at the Nature Conservancy in Mexico City, said that the government of that city could also fix its severe leakage problem and build wastewater treatment plants — if officials choose to prioritize those projects.

“We have resources and we have access to financing,” she told Grist. “There are resources available. It just also takes a will and an interest to want to invest in these issues.”

The Nature Conservancy runs a water investment fund in Mexico City that has financed conservation efforts in the pine forests surrounding the metropolis; these forests capture water and help recharge the city’s collapsing groundwater aquifers.

Recharging aquifers and building desalination plants is one thing, but the water crises in these cities have also revealed a stark fact: For many of the poorest residents in a metropolis like Cape Town, clean water was never available in the first place. 

The wealthy and middle-class areas of Cape Town receive piped water from reservoirs, but residents who live in the vast townships outside the city have to get water from communal standpipes — the very fate that so frightened middle-class residents of the city in the leadup to Day Zero. In the eastern neighborhoods of Mexico City, many taps have never released water for more than a few hours each day, according to Lopez Rodriguez, and much of that water is from contaminated sections of the aquifer. Lopez Rodriguez speculates that the crisis in Mexico City has drawn international attention because it has begun to affect upper-class neighborhoods that are accustomed to reliable water deliveries from the reservoir system.

Even during the peak of the Day Zero affair, many of the worst-off residents of Cape Town pointed to the same disparity, said Richard Meissner, a professor of political science at the University of South Africa who has studied the city’s response to the 2018 drought.

“I remember that some of the less affluent people in the city said that the campaign is aimed at the more affluent portions of Cape Town,” he said. “They said, ‘They don’t care about us, because for us every day is a Day Zero.’”

This story was originally published by Grist with the headline As reservoirs go dry, Mexico City and Bogotá are staring down ‘Day Zero’ on May 23, 2024.

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

The Labyrinthine Rules That Created a Housing Crisis

The rules that govern land are the foundation of our lives.

This article has been adapted from the introduction of On the Housing Crisis: Land, Development, Democracy. Consider how a home is built in America. Long before the foundation is poured, the first step is to check the rule books. For the uninitiated, the laws that govern the land appear hopelessly technical and boring, prescribing dozens upon dozens of requirements for what can be built and where. Zoning ordinances and other land-use regulations or zoning ordinances reach far beyond the surface-level goal of preserving health and safety. Instead, they reveal a legal regime stealthily enforcing an archaic set of aesthetic and moral preferences. Preferences that flourished out of a desire to separate Americans by race have evolved into a labyrinthine, exclusionary, and localized system that is at the core of the housing crisis—and very few people know about it.In America, we’ve delegated the power over how our land is used to the local level, and seeded the process with various veto points. We’ve done this under the misguided assumption that decentralization will make the process more democratic. In reality, this system has resulted in stasis and sclerosis, empowering small numbers of unrepresentative people and organizations to determine what our towns and cities look like and preventing our democratically elected representatives from planning for the future.[From the July/August 2023 issue: Colorado’s ingenious idea for solving the housing crisis]Say you own a single-family home. You and your partner bought it during the pandemic purchasing frenzy, and now you find yourself blessed with a child. You decide that you’d love to have your father move in with you to help with child care when you return to work. Although you love your dad, making sure he has his own living space is probably best for everyone involved.So you decide to build a little backyard cottage, sometimes called a “granny flat,” a “mother-in-law suite,” or, more formally, an “accessory dwelling unit.” But then you discover that your property is not zoned for a secondary home, no matter how small. You’re annoyed—It’s not like I’m trying to build an apartment building, and this is my land right? You go to city hall and ask the planner to help you fill out an application for a variance. You’re pretty handy, so you’ve worked out the specifications for the home you’re building (again, on your property) and you submit your application to the city.Next you attend a city-council meeting, where you’re No. 3 on the agenda. You wait your turn for hours, thinking, Who could possibly have time for this? while listening to people who claim to be your neighbors—you don’t recognize them—complain about bike lanes. Finally, you’re up, and you get a question about parking availability. You tell the council that your father is going to share your car, and that you already have a two-car driveway and a garage. You’re then peppered with questions about whether the structure will cast shadows on your neighbors’ property, whether you intend to rent out the unit someday, whether you’ve looked into potential environmental damage to your lawn, whether you promise to respect the historic integrity of the neighborhood. Someone makes a comment about “out-of-towners” with their big money coming and driving up the prices. But then the meeting is over, and you hope that’s the last of it.It isn’t. In the following months, you’re asked to make a bunch of changes to your plan and resubmit it. Unfortunately, someone on your block has made it his business to draw out this process as long as possible. He is frustrated by all the new homes going up as the suburb grows. Apparently he thinks they’re ugly. You end up negotiating directly with him and realize that, if you reconfigured the cottage and got all the legal approvals necessary to satisfy his concerns, you’d have to shell out an extra $20,000 that you don’t have. Often, you consider giving up.But let’s say the local authorities get around to granting permission. That’s not necessarily the end of the road. A determined opponent could sue, claiming that your little cottage will degrade the environment or that you ignored some minor permitting technicality, or he could fight to get your neighborhood added to a historic registry, and on and on. Proving that you’ve actually harmed the environment or degraded the neighborhood character is secondary; the claim alone is enough to keep your plans—and your life—in limbo.Not every story about housing development is quite this miserable, but many are. The most unlikely part of this saga is that our protagonist even tries to get an exception from the existing, restrictive rules. Most people wouldn’t bother with a variance; they would just give up. Developers don’t like to bother with variances, either; they want to avoid the serpentine process our unlucky hero found herself trapped in.[Jerusalem Demsas: Meet the latest housing-crisis scapegoat]For our fictional new parent, the costs are weighty: A grandfather is deprived of the chance to live with his family, a grandchild is deprived of that relationship, two parents are forced to shell out thousands of dollars for day care, and the people who wanted to buy the grandfather’s home now have to look elsewhere. The knock-on effects are endless. The parents will have less money to save for their child’s future, and they will drive up the demand—and thus prices—for day-care services; they may even have to subsidize the grandfather’s elder care. These individual setbacks can seem minor, but multiplied across tens of thousands of communities, they add up to a national tragedy.The American population is growing, and aging, and in many cases looking for smaller houses. But the types of homes Americans need simply don’t exist. All across the country, local governments ban smaller houses (have you tried looking for a starter home recently?), apartment buildings, and even duplexes—the sorts of places a grandparent, or a young person, or a working family might want to live. The shortage has been estimated at 4 million homes, and that scarcity is fueling our affordability crisis. In the end, whatever does get built reflects the cost of delays, the cost of complying with expensive requirements, the priced-in threat of lawsuits, and, most important, scarcity.Americans are aware by now that the housing affordability crisis is acute, but many don’t understand what’s causing it. All too often, explanations center on identifying a villain: greedy developers, or private-equity companies, or racist neighbors, or gentrifiers, or corrupt politicians. These stories are not always false, nor are these villains imaginary, but they don’t speak to root causes.I’ve told these stories myself, often identifying NIMBYs as the villains. This term, an acronym for “not in my backyard,” is used to refer specifically to those who support something in the abstract but oppose it in their neighborhood. But NIMBY has experienced the sort of definitional inflation that happens to all successful epithets and now refers to anyone who opposes development for the wrong reasons.An intense focus on the moral failings of various people and organizations can be a distraction. Exposing terrible landlords is important, but perhaps even more important is addressing why they have so much power. Pointing out that a billionaire is trying to thwart the construction of townhouses in his affluent neighborhood is useful, but even more useful is understanding why he might succeed.I believe that opposing housing, renewable-energy development, or even bike lanes for bad reasons is wrong (and my disdain for people who do so is evident in many of these articles). But NIMBYs are a sideshow. A democracy will always have people with different values. The problem is that the game is rigged in their favor. NIMBYs haven’t won because they’ve made better arguments or because they’ve mobilized a mass democratic coalition—I would very much doubt that even 10 percent of Americans have ever seriously engaged in the politics of local development. NIMBYs win because land politics is insulated from democratic accountability. As a result, widespread dissatisfaction with the housing crisis struggles to translate into meaningful change.[Jerusalem Demsas: Housing breaks people’s brains]When democracies fail to translate voter desires into reality, we should try to identify what’s causing the disconnect. In this case, the trouble is that our collective frustration about our economic outcomes is directed at elected officials who have little or nothing to do with how our land is used. We should change that.The politics of land should play out in the domain of democratic participation instead of leaving it to the zoning boards, historic-preservation committees, and courtrooms. Instead of relying on discretionary processes subject to review by countless actors, governmental bodies, and laws, states should strip away veto points and unnecessary local interference.In general, debates about how our land is used should happen where more people are paying attention: at the state level, where governors, watchdog institutions, and the press are able to weigh in and create the conditions for the exercise of public reason. Not at the hyperlocal level, where nobody’s watching and nobody’s accountable.Right now we have theoretical democracy: democracy by and for those with the lawyers, time, access, and incentive to engage in the thorny politics of land. But despite the pretty name of “participatory democracy,” it is anything but. “Democracy is the exercise of public reason,” the political philosopher John Rawls wrote. Relatedly, the economist and philosopher Amartya Sen argued that “democracy has to be judged not just by the institutions that formally exist but by the extent to which different voices from diverse sections of the people can actually be heard.”All 340 million of us could, I suppose, become obsessed with land-use regulations and show up at dozens of meetings a year to make our voices heard. We could worm our way into sparsely attended communities and spend hours going back and forth with the unrepresentative actors who have the time, the money, and a curious combination of personality traits, and who have already hijacked this process. But we won’t. And a true democracy does not simply offer the theoretical possibility of involvement in decision making: It offers institutions that can hear us where we are. The rules that govern land are the foundation of our lives. Americans should take a closer look into how they are determined.This article has been adapted from the introduction of On the Housing Crisis: Land, Development, Democracy.

Costa Rica Faces Alarming Rise in Childhood Obesity Rates

Recent statistics have unveiled a growing health crisis in Costa Rica, with an alarming 31.5% of children and adolescents aged 5-19 being overweight and 12.3% classified as obese. This troubling trend has sparked significant concern among health professionals across the country, prompting calls for immediate action. Dr. Nydia Amador, a public health specialist and founder […] The post Costa Rica Faces Alarming Rise in Childhood Obesity Rates appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

Recent statistics have unveiled a growing health crisis in Costa Rica, with an alarming 31.5% of children and adolescents aged 5-19 being overweight and 12.3% classified as obese. This troubling trend has sparked significant concern among health professionals across the country, prompting calls for immediate action. Dr. Nydia Amador, a public health specialist and founder of the Healthy Costa Rica Association, emphasizes the gravity of the situation. “We are witnessing our children on a path to chronic illness, and we must act swiftly to prevent this dire outcome,” she warns. Dr. Amador’s concerns are echoed by nutritionists and other health experts who see the long-term implications of this epidemic. The National Children’s Hospital has reported treating 50 minors aged 10-15 for type 2 diabetes this year alone, a condition typically associated with poor diet and lack of physical activity. These cases serve as a stark reminder of the severity of the situation and the immediate health impacts on Costa Rica’s youth. Dr. Amador points to aggressive marketing of ultra-processed foods on social media as a key contributing factor to this crisis. “We’re living in obesogenic environments. Our children are constantly bombarded with advertisements promoting foods high in sugar, saturated fats, calories, and sodium,” she explains. This digital onslaught makes it increasingly challenging for children to make healthy food choices. The problem extends beyond just weight issues. According to the 2018 Cardiovascular Risk Factors Survey conducted by the Costa Rican Social Security Fund (CCSS), among children aged 9-11, 29% had elevated triglycerides, and 15% had high cholesterol levels. These statistics paint a worrying picture of the overall health of Costa Rica’s young population. Despite the World Health Organization’s urgent call for policies to reduce unhealthy food consumption among youth, Costa Rica has been slow to respond. Dr. Amador suggests implementing measures such as front-of-package labeling and taxes on sugar-sweetened beverages to combat this growing health crisis. “These policy interventions have proven effective in other countries and could significantly impact our children’s health,” she argues. The crisis is further exacerbated by modern lifestyles. “Children today live on social networks,” Dr. Amador notes, “which is far from being a healthy space for them. Instead, it’s a place where they are permanently and aggressively exposed to marketing strategies designed by the food industry.” Nutritionists are particularly concerned about the shift in dietary patterns. There has been a notable increase in the consumption of ultra-processed foods, coupled with a decrease in the intake of fruits, vegetables, legumes, and whole grains. This nutritional transition is contributing significantly to the obesity epidemic and associated health problems. As Costa Rica grapples with this issue, health experts stress the urgent need for comprehensive strategies to promote healthier lifestyles among the country’s youth. These strategies must address not only diet and physical activity but also the broader environmental and social factors contributing to the problem. The government, schools, parents, and the food industry all have crucial roles to play in reversing this trend. Experts call for a multi-faceted approach, including education programs, improved school meal standards, increased opportunities for physical activity, and stricter regulations on food marketing to children. As the country faces this health challenge, the message from health professionals is clear: immediate and decisive action is needed to safeguard the health and future of Costa Rica’s younger generation. The post Costa Rica Faces Alarming Rise in Childhood Obesity Rates appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

EPA faults Mississippi state communications on water risks ahead of Jackson crisis

Mississippi’s state health department did not adequately enforce the Safe Drinking Water Act in Jackson, contributing to the 2022 crisis that left 150,000 residents without drinking water, according to a report released Tuesday by the Environmental Protection Agency’s (EPA) Office of Inspector General. The OIG found that annual inspections by the Mississippi State Department of...

Mississippi’s state health department did not adequately enforce the Safe Drinking Water Act in Jackson, contributing to the 2022 crisis that left 150,000 residents without drinking water, according to a report released Tuesday by the Environmental Protection Agency’s (EPA) Office of Inspector General. The OIG found that annual inspections by the Mississippi State Department of Health (MSDH) between 2015 and 2021 did not properly document inadequacies in Jackson’s water system or properly notify the city of those issues. “As a result, the EPA did not have a comprehensive understanding of the extent of the management and operational issues at Jackson’s system,” the report states. “The MSDH oversight failures obscured Jackson’s long-standing challenges, allowed issues to compound over time, and contributed to the system’s eventual failure.” The report also found that the state failed to report two Safe Drinking Water Act violations in 2016 and 2017 in a timely manner and took no formal enforcement actions for more than four years beginning in September 2018. As a result, the city had no violations listed from 2012 to 2017 and could not be flagged as an enforcement priority for the EPA. The report also found that on one occasion, in July 2015, samples collected by the state showed lead levels past the threshold at which action must be taken, but the state did not notify Jackson of the elevated levels until the following January. The OIG report recommends that the agency develop a method to ensure sanitary surveys are adequate, and for the agency’s assistant administrator for water to update EPA guidance. It further recommends developing guidance specific to the Safe Drinking Water Act. The EPA has agreed with all of the recommendations. The August 2022 crisis began after flooding of the Pearl River knocked the city’s biggest water treatment plant out of commission, leaving some residents without clean water for months. The capitol city was once majority-white but after federal desegregation in the 1960s, large portions of its white population left for the suburbs, depleting its tax base. Since then, it has frequently been the site of political standoffs between its predominantly Black and Democratic leadership and the state’s white, Republican leaders. Following the 2022 crisis the EPA referred the city to the Justice Department, leading to the appointment of a third-party manager. The Hill has reached out to the MSDH for comment.

California’s Fire-Insurance Crisis Just Got Real

The Park Fire has sent homeowners falling through the state’s shredded safety net.

Susie Lawing moved to Cohasset, a small community located in the forested canyons above the city of Chico, California, in the 1970s. After she and her husband divorced, Lawing stayed, presiding over 26 acres of lush family compound. Loved ones built homes of their own on the property, and they began hosting weddings and retreats. Lawing started to grow her own food.All of that is now gone, she told me. Two weeks ago, the Park Fire ripped through the property. Lawing, now 81, lost everything. She did not have insurance. Lawing lives modestly on Social Security benefits, supplemented by renting out her home and selling essential oils, and simply could not afford the $12,000 a year—$1,000 a month—home-insurance policy she was quoted for a state-backed policy, the last resort for many homeowners. Paying that would have doubled her monthly expenses. “There was no way I could afford that,” she told me. “What do you do? You just let it go.”Now the family faces the prospect of rebuilding without a safety net. Lawing’s daughter has set up a GoFundMe page for her. (Her grandson Myles Lawing also has a GoFundMe set up for his dad, who had an uninsured home on the property.) Others on the crowdfunding site are raising money for families who’d lost their homes to fire once before, when just six years ago, the deadly Camp Fire raged through the town of Paradise, just 30 minutes down the road. Some Paradise families, such as the Bakers, chose to resettle in Cohasset, only to have their new home burn.This is the reality of California’s new age of fire. Wildfires have gotten more ferocious in recent years, thanks in part to warming temperatures: Park is the fourth largest in the state’s recorded history. As homes in high-risk areas become harder to insure, premiums are rising, and some insurers are leaving the state altogether. The safety net that people once depended on has developed holes, and now people are falling through.“People need insurance. It’s essential for their recovery,” Carolyn Kousky, the associate vice president for economics and policy at Environmental Defense Fund, told me. But if state-funded insurance is people’s only option, she said, the question becomes “How much are we going to subsidize that?” As climate change brings about bigger fires and stronger hurricanes and more intense floods, the country is being forced to decide what homes to save and whom to leave on their own.California’s insurance crisis first started around 2017. In that year and the ones that followed, a series of costly fires erased decades of profits, and forced insurance companies to reconsider their rates and their presence in the state. Premiums began rising, and in the past two years, major national companies including State Farm, Farmers, and Allstate, as well as smaller firms, have pulled back, declining to renew tens of thousands of policies. Coming on top of rising inflation and building costs, wildfires have made the cost of doing business just too high, insurers argue. For those living in areas where no private company will take on the risk, California offers a last-resort option called FAIR. From 2019 to 2024, as insurance companies retreated, the number of California FAIR plans has more than doubled. But FAIR plans are also getting more expensive. Many Californians are underinsured—and some are opting to go without insurance at all.The people living in the Park Fire burn area are struggling with these exact dynamics. Counting how many people are uninsured in a given area is difficult. But from 2015 to 2021, insurance companies issued almost 7,000 nonrenewal notices in Cohasset’s zip code, which has about 13,000 properties total, according to state data, analyzed and provided to me by First Street Foundation, a nonprofit that models climate risk. That means insurance companies potentially pulled policies for more than half of the homes in the area. And these data are only through 2021, before the exodus of insurers began in earnest.Cohasset is located in an extremely risky part of the state; First Street Foundation’s models put it at severe fire risk, and predict that 100 percent of the structures in the area will be threatened in the next 30 years. People might balk at high insurance rates, but those prices are a warning of disaster to come. “As brutal as it is, when insurance companies stop offering insurance, it’s a signal that the risk is uninsurable—that those losses are coming,” Abrahm Lustgarten, a reporter and the author of On the Move, a book about climate migration, told me. Blunting these signals with policies such as state-subsidized insurance plans may create incentives to stay when families should really consider leaving.But moving isn’t easy. It means leaving a life behind, perhaps generations’ worth of local memories. It means uprooting oneself from the community you grew up in, and maybe even saying goodbye to loved ones. For some, this is too difficult. Others are just overly optimistic about the risk—psychology and behavioral-economics research suggest that people have a hard time processing such risk, Kousky pointed out.Others just can’t afford to go elsewhere. Leaving a place might mean leaving a job, or a business, or a garden that helps you save on groceries. California is an extremely expensive place to live. Moving from the edge of the forest to a city would be safer, but infeasible for some people. Sky-high costs of living have pushed people farther and farther out in search of cheaper housing—and directly in the path of fire. Lustgarten’s reporting suggests that Americans are less likely to pick up and run in terror from disaster, he told me, and more likely to uproot when the cost of staying becomes unrealistic, whether because of a disaster like Park or the rising cost of air-conditioning in a hot area like Phoenix. At first, such migration can be incremental—moving from one town to another nearby, as the people who moved from Paradise to Cohasset did, which didn’t put them beyond risk. People may have to experience loss multiple times before they truly uproot themselves.The Park Fire is still burning, slinking through the Sierra Nevada and threatening thousands of homes and buildings in the small mountain towns that dot the region. Already, some 600 structures have burned. FEMA provides some individual assistance in the aftermath of a disaster. But the agency has warned over and over that the funding it can offer is no substitute for insurance. Many fire victims are now turning to crowdfunding resources such as GoFundMe to try to blunt catastrophic financial losses: In the past five years, the number of wildfire fundraisers on GoFundMe has tripled, a representative for the company told me in an email.Lawing’s daughter Jessica Adams told me that she probably wouldn’t be grieving the loss of her family’s compound so hard if they’d had insurance. They still would have been devastated—but at least they’d know they had money to rebuild. Her mom wants to move back to the property—to get out of the city where she’s taken refuge and back up into the hills where the birds and frogs sing. They’re considering building some kind of yurt or tiny house. But they’re facing a long road back to any kind of stability. “I don’t know what the answer is. But I sure wish there was more support,” Adams told me. Her voice began to wobble, then break. “It really would have been nice if my mom had insurance. And she couldn’t get it.”In the coming decades, as climate change makes disasters more likely, Americans will need to decide how to approach situations like this. The solutions don’t have to mean clearing whole areas of people altogether. Kousky said that, in the case of floods, she’s seen proposals to offer lower premiums only to the people who really need it—while forcing more affluent families to pay the full price to live in these zones. She told me that she hasn’t seen that policy suggested for wildfire insurance yet. The reality, though, is that people will continue to live in places like Cohasset, even if it means taking the risk that a fire could burn through their life and leave them scrambling for a way to recover.

Oklahoma’s Oil Industry Touts a Voluntary Fund to Clean Up Oil Wells. Major Drillers Want Their Contributions Refunded.

Oklahoma’s oil industry pays into a voluntary fund to clean up oil wells, but many drillers opt out. The money that has been refunded to these companies in recent years could have restored an estimated 1,500 orphan well sites. The post Oklahoma’s Oil Industry Touts a Voluntary Fund to Clean Up Oil Wells. Major Drillers Want Their Contributions Refunded. appeared first on .

Co-published with ProPublica Oklahoma’s oil and gas industry touts its altruism and environmental stewardship by pointing to a voluntary levy that companies pay on their production, which is then used to clean up orphan wells that have been left to the state. But some of Oklahoma’s biggest oil companies have opted out of the fund, forcing the state to return millions of dollars that would have otherwise gone to restoring land scarred by discarded drilling infrastructure and contaminated by leaks and spills, according to a ProPublica and Capital & Main analysis. The list of companies that received such refunds includes some of the Oklahoma oil industry’s household names, such as Ovintiv and Chesapeake Energy Corp. It also includes the two richest people in the state: Harold Hamm, a pioneer in fracking technology and the founder of the multibillion-dollar Continental Resources, and George Kaiser, whose success as head of his family’s oil company helped him buy the Bank of Oklahoma. All told, dozens of oil companies received refunds worth about $11 million over the past seven years, ProPublica and Capital & Main found. Put another way, for every $100 the state brought in via this funding mechanism, it sent $8.58 back to oil companies. The Oklahoma Energy Resources Board, created by the Legislature in 1993, collects a 0.1% assessment on oil and gas production that functions like a tax on the state’s largest industry. The roughly $163 million collected — after refunds — since the levy’s inception has funded the restoration of more than 20,000 sites. If the board had not had to issue the millions of dollars in refunds, it could have restored an additional 1,500 orphan well sites, according to the board’s average cleanup bill. Until they are plugged, these wells can leak a litany of pollutants, from toxic gasses to salty wastewater, presenting an environmental crisis across Oklahoma. ProPublica and Capital & Main reached out to all 76 companies that requested refunds in the past seven years as well as to the main in-state trade groups, the Oklahoma Energy Producers Alliance and the Petroleum Alliance of Oklahoma. The Petroleum Alliance of Oklahoma, Hamm’s Continental Resources, Kaiser’s Kaiser-Francis Oil Co., Chesapeake Energy and Ovintiv did not respond to requests for comment. Only two oil producers answered questions: one said she requested refunds to cut down on contact with regulators, while the other dismissed concerns about the refunds, stating that “it’s not that much money.” Zack Taylor, a spokesperson for the Oklahoma Energy Producers Alliance, wrote in an email that the board “has done very important work cleaning up abandoned well sites all over Oklahoma.” But, he added, “We believe it should be an opt in program so the smaller producers and royalty owners could agree up front whether or not to participate.” In addition to paying for orphan well site cleanup, the Energy Resources Board’s levy funds pro-fossil fuel marketing campaigns that range from K-12 curricula promoting the industry in classrooms to programming with Mike Rowe, the reality television star known for the show “Dirty Jobs.” Mindy Stitt, the Energy Resources Board’s executive director, said the state’s oil companies “exemplify what it means to be a good neighbor.” “They contribute millions of dollars to our programs, even if they must request a refund some years, making significant impacts across our state,” she said. Oklahoma’s Orphan Well Epidemic Farmers chat near a well on a farm in south-central Oklahoma. Photo: Mark Olalde/ProPublica. Not everyone sees it that way. Don Scott has worked his farm in south-central Oklahoma for years, harvesting hay while carefully avoiding an orphan well that scars one of his fields. The green pump jack stood inoperable on a recent visit to the farm, rust eating through the metal. Salt contamination had turned the soil an unnatural white, the dirt cracking at the base of the well. The well occupies otherwise productive land and could leak more pollutants into the environment. “And that ain’t counting the aggravation of having to work around it,” said Scott, whose father and grandfather worked in the oil fields and who now laments the state’s orphan well epidemic. More than 18,000 wells have already been labeled as orphans by the Oklahoma Corporation Commission, the state’s main oil regulatory body. That number is likely to swell, as the state has more than a quarter-million unplugged wells — some active, some already idle — according to data from energy software firm Enverus. But the money available for cleanup pales in comparison to the task. The Oklahoma Corporation Commission collects its own tax, which has generated only a several-million-dollar orphan well fund. The state quickly exhausted federal money it received from the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act to plug wells. And drillers have set aside only 0.6% of the projected cleanup cost via financial instruments called bonds, according to a ProPublica and Capital & Main analysis of state data. This leaves the Energy Resources Board and its voluntary cleanup fund as an important tool in Oklahoma’s struggle to address its unplugged wells. If the Energy Resources Board fund continues to be voluntary in a state that’s already slow to impose regulations on its most lucrative industry, critics say, then companies should at least be required to set aside enough money to plug their own wells. “Local industry also has a part to play in funding remediation,” said Kara Joy McKee, director of the Sierra Club’s Oklahoma chapter. “It should be a general obligation of the industry that has received so much wealth from the resources of this state.” Big Oil, Big Refunds Some of the state’s major oil producers top the list of companies that requested refunds. Continental Resources received nearly $1.6 million in refunds over the seven years for which the Energy Resources Board maintains data, while Kaiser-Francis Oil took in about $490,000. Ovintiv, an $11 billion oil company, was by far the largest recipient, as its subsidiaries and related entities got more than $3.8 million back. Next on the list, a partnership between large driller Mach Resources and private equity firm Bayou City Energy Management received more than $2.1 million in refunds. Neither company responded to requests for comment. The Oklahoma City-headquartered Chesapeake Energy, valued at $10 billion, also appeared on the list, getting a more than $400,000 refund. And companies belonging to the McCasland family, longtime Oklahoma oil producers, filed dozens of requests totalling several hundred-thousand dollars in refunds. One of the family’s companies, Twin D Energy, repeatedly pursued the refund, even when it stood to only get back amounts as low as $2.57, $3.47 and $3.71 in a given year. Tom McCasland III, the president of the family’s companies, said they only request refunds for their own portion of oil production, not for other working interest owners. ‘It Ought to Be There Permanently’ Oklahoma has a sunset law that sets the date by which the state must dissolve or renew certain government agencies, and the Energy Resources Board is facing the chopping block. In 2023, its sunset date was pushed back to 2025 to give lawmakers time to decide what to do with the agency. But several bills proposed in this year’s and last year’s legislative session to extend or update the board’s mandate failed. Instead, the state’s oil trade groups have entered negotiations to draft their own language destined for the Legislature. Some of their ideas threaten to further undermine funding for the board’s cleanup work. On one hand, the trade groups are discussing provisions to allow the board to plug wells instead of only cleaning up surface contamination. But some oil companies are also aiming to make it easier to avoid paying the assessment that funds the board’s work, potentially only collecting money from drillers who opt in. “There are people that don’t feel that it is really refundable,” said McCasland, who serves as the Oklahoma Energy Producers Alliance’s chairman in addition to his work with his family’s oil companies. As a result, the negotiations have included discussions about the ease of getting the money back. Every dollar refunded is one less dollar spent cleaning up the industry’s orphan wells, so landowners like Scott, the farmer with an orphan well on his land, might have to continue waiting to see old, leaking infrastructure removed from their property. The Energy Resources Board is a “good thing,” Scott said, and it has begun cleanup on his land. So he expressed frustration upon learning that oil companies regularly ask the board for refunds. “Once it’s paid in,” he said, “it ought to be there permanently.” Copyright 2024 Capital & Main and ProPublica

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