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Western North Carolina was hailed as a ‘climate haven.’ Hurricane Helene shows it’s not so simple.

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Thursday, October 3, 2024

Western North Carolina, and specifically the Asheville area, had been considered a possible refuge from the impacts of climate change, but it is now suffering some of the worst devastation from Hurricane Helene. The area was dubbed a potential “climate haven” due to its elevation and temperate climates as recently as 2022.  The storm and its aftermath illustrate the damage that can be wrought by just one of the unusually extreme weather events that are becoming more common as a result of climate change, however — and make clear that elevation will sometimes not be enough to protect the region against such events. “Some of these places, especially at higher elevation, it’s not too hot, you’re far from the coast … places like Asheville have a lot of appeal” as climate refuges, said Margaret Walls, an environmental economist and a senior fellow at the nonprofit Resources for the Future. However, she said, in the mountains “the terrain makes it such that flooding is a problem,” and particularly in poverty-stricken areas, “there are a limited number of places people can live so they tend to live in flood prone places.” “From a rainfall perspective, the Appalachian Mountains are woefully unprepared — at the community level, the household level, our infrastructure is not prepared,” said Nicolas Zegre, an associate professor of forest hydrology at the West Virginia University Davis College of Agriculture and Natural Resources. Severe flooding and mudslides brought on by Helene have left dozens of people in the region dead and displaced or stranded many others amid the wreckage of buildings and roads. Hundreds of thousands of households in North Carolina remain without power days after the storm hit, according to PowerOutage.us. Search and rescue operations are still ongoing. Much of the rain fell on mountain communities with only one or two roads leading in or out, meaning that once they were washed out, it became all but impossible to deliver supplies and relief through overland routes. Zegre noted the region has been hit with the aftereffects of heavy Gulf or Atlantic hurricanes before, notably in the early 1990s. Since then, however, the effects of climate change have likely made hurricanes more intense and denser with moisture, which made the aftermath of Helene “unprecedented” in the region, he said.  Much of what has made the storm's impact so extreme, he added, comes down to a combination of the mountainous terrain and simple gravity. “When you drop that amount of rain in mountain topography, it’s hard to avoid being impacted by the flood.” In the mountains, “the water doesn't linger like on a flat flood plain … it kind of is concentrated, and it moves at high velocity,” said Philip Berke, director of the Center for Resilient Communities and Environment at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Additionally, Berke said, the region had already seen heavy rain in the days before the Helene remnants moved north, and due to the elevation, “cold air goes up, the dew points get reached, and the hurricane was just pumping in all that warm, moist air on top of a highly saturated situation.” An area doesn't have to be regularly impacted by extreme weather events to be devastated by one, experts said. Even if a storm like Helene is a far rarer occurrence for western North Carolina than wildfires are for the western U.S. or tropical storms are for Florida, a single catastrophic event can be enough. “When you look at property damages or damages per capita and you look at the top counties in the U.S., in many counties one single event will shoot them up to the top of the list,” Walls said. “There’s a county in New Jersey that’s very high on the list purely because 99 percent of those damages came from Hurricane Sandy.” “The lesson here is trends matter and there are certain locations that get hit repeatedly, but no place is really immune — every place needs to prepare,” she added. And when an area has limited resources — and a limited tax base — to begin with, a disaster at this level makes the rebuilding process even more difficult and complex. “It’s easier for the city of Atlanta than it is for one of these small counties in North Carolina,” she said. Berke noted that the devastation of the storm comes at a time when much of the region was experiencing the beginning of a resurgence that made it an attractive target for development. “They want to build. They want to expand. They want their tax bases,” he said.  Places like the town of Chimney Rock, which floodwaters all but swept away, were seeing new economic growth in areas like tourism, rafting and vacation rentals that weren’t part of their economies a decade ago. “At the same time, the climate and the heat has been building up and accelerating, so you have these converging forces,” he said. Ultimately, events like Helene and its aftermath demonstrate the need for both mitigation of climate change and a more expansive vision of adapting to its impacts, Zegre said. “We can’t stop the rain, we can’t stop the rivers, so we really need to think about how to adapt,” he said, particularly if the influx of tourism and permanent residents continues. “We need to expect that these storms are going to be a worst-case scenario.”

Western North Carolina, and specifically the Asheville area, had been considered a possible refuge from the impacts of climate change, but it is now suffering some of the worst devastation from Hurricane Helene. The area was dubbed a potential “climate haven” due to its elevation and temperate climates as recently as 2022. The storm and its...

Western North Carolina, and specifically the Asheville area, had been considered a possible refuge from the impacts of climate change, but it is now suffering some of the worst devastation from Hurricane Helene.

The area was dubbed a potential “climate haven” due to its elevation and temperate climates as recently as 2022

The storm and its aftermath illustrate the damage that can be wrought by just one of the unusually extreme weather events that are becoming more common as a result of climate change, however — and make clear that elevation will sometimes not be enough to protect the region against such events.

“Some of these places, especially at higher elevation, it’s not too hot, you’re far from the coast … places like Asheville have a lot of appeal” as climate refuges, said Margaret Walls, an environmental economist and a senior fellow at the nonprofit Resources for the Future.

However, she said, in the mountains “the terrain makes it such that flooding is a problem,” and particularly in poverty-stricken areas, “there are a limited number of places people can live so they tend to live in flood prone places.”

“From a rainfall perspective, the Appalachian Mountains are woefully unprepared — at the community level, the household level, our infrastructure is not prepared,” said Nicolas Zegre, an associate professor of forest hydrology at the West Virginia University Davis College of Agriculture and Natural Resources.

Severe flooding and mudslides brought on by Helene have left dozens of people in the region dead and displaced or stranded many others amid the wreckage of buildings and roads. Hundreds of thousands of households in North Carolina remain without power days after the storm hit, according to PowerOutage.us. Search and rescue operations are still ongoing.

Much of the rain fell on mountain communities with only one or two roads leading in or out, meaning that once they were washed out, it became all but impossible to deliver supplies and relief through overland routes.

Zegre noted the region has been hit with the aftereffects of heavy Gulf or Atlantic hurricanes before, notably in the early 1990s. Since then, however, the effects of climate change have likely made hurricanes more intense and denser with moisture, which made the aftermath of Helene “unprecedented” in the region, he said. 

Much of what has made the storm's impact so extreme, he added, comes down to a combination of the mountainous terrain and simple gravity. “When you drop that amount of rain in mountain topography, it’s hard to avoid being impacted by the flood.”

In the mountains, “the water doesn't linger like on a flat flood plain … it kind of is concentrated, and it moves at high velocity,” said Philip Berke, director of the Center for Resilient Communities and Environment at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Additionally, Berke said, the region had already seen heavy rain in the days before the Helene remnants moved north, and due to the elevation, “cold air goes up, the dew points get reached, and the hurricane was just pumping in all that warm, moist air on top of a highly saturated situation.”

An area doesn't have to be regularly impacted by extreme weather events to be devastated by one, experts said. Even if a storm like Helene is a far rarer occurrence for western North Carolina than wildfires are for the western U.S. or tropical storms are for Florida, a single catastrophic event can be enough.

“When you look at property damages or damages per capita and you look at the top counties in the U.S., in many counties one single event will shoot them up to the top of the list,” Walls said. “There’s a county in New Jersey that’s very high on the list purely because 99 percent of those damages came from Hurricane Sandy.”

“The lesson here is trends matter and there are certain locations that get hit repeatedly, but no place is really immune — every place needs to prepare,” she added. And when an area has limited resources — and a limited tax base — to begin with, a disaster at this level makes the rebuilding process even more difficult and complex.

“It’s easier for the city of Atlanta than it is for one of these small counties in North Carolina,” she said.

Berke noted that the devastation of the storm comes at a time when much of the region was experiencing the beginning of a resurgence that made it an attractive target for development. “They want to build. They want to expand. They want their tax bases,” he said. 

Places like the town of Chimney Rock, which floodwaters all but swept away, were seeing new economic growth in areas like tourism, rafting and vacation rentals that weren’t part of their economies a decade ago.

“At the same time, the climate and the heat has been building up and accelerating, so you have these converging forces,” he said.

Ultimately, events like Helene and its aftermath demonstrate the need for both mitigation of climate change and a more expansive vision of adapting to its impacts, Zegre said.

“We can’t stop the rain, we can’t stop the rivers, so we really need to think about how to adapt,” he said, particularly if the influx of tourism and permanent residents continues. “We need to expect that these storms are going to be a worst-case scenario.”

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

Sinkholes in Turkey's Agricultural Heartland Fuel Farmers' Concerns

By Ali KucukgocmenKONYA, Turkey, Dec 23 (Reuters) - Hundreds of ‌sinkholes ​have emerged in Turkey's central ‌agricultural region due to dwindling...

KONYA, Turkey, Dec 23 (Reuters) - Hundreds of ‌sinkholes ​have emerged in Turkey's central ‌agricultural region due to dwindling rainfall and receding groundwaters, causing concern ​among farmers and environmental experts who see it as a worrying sign of climate change.Gaping sinkholes ‍pockmark farmland producing maize, wheat ​and sugar beet in Karapinar in Konya province, with more than 10 packed into ​a field ⁠in places. In mountainous areas, vast, ancient sinkholes previously filled with water have now mostly dried up.The pace at which sinkholes are forming in the Konya basin has accelerated in recent years, with the total now nearing 700, according to Fetullah Arik, a geology ‌professor studying sinkholes at Konya Technical University."The main reason for the increase in numbers ​is ‌climate change and drought, which ‍have affected ⁠the whole world since the 2000s," Arik said. "As a result of this drought, the groundwater level is dropping slightly every year."He said the pace of receding groundwater levels has reached 4 to 5 metres per year, compared to half a metre per year in the 2000s, adding to concerns in Turkey's major agricultural sector.Drought and receding groundwater lead local farmers to dig more wells, ​many unlicensed, further depleting the groundwater and exacerbating the problem."There is also an extremely high demand for water in this (Konya) basin," Arik said, adding that there are around 120,000 unlicensed wells, compared to some 40,000 licensed ones.While the new sinkholes have not caused any casualties so far, their unpredictable nature risks the lives and belongings of locals, he said.Two sinkholes opened up in the farmland belonging to Mustafa Sik, a farmer in Karapinar, in the past two years. His brother was only a short distance away, working on the farm in August ​2024 when the second sinkhole formed with an "extremely loud, terrifying rumbling sound," Sik said.A survey by geologists in Sik's land found two more areas where sinkholes could form – although it is not possible to predict when it will happen."Are ​we worried? Of course, we are very worried," he said.(Reporting by Ali Kucukgocmen; Editing by Daren Butler, Alexandra Hudson)Copyright 2025 Thomson Reuters.Photos You Should See – December 2025

This Netflix holiday rom-com is secretly an environmentalist fantasy

Don't watch "A Merry Little Ex-Mas" for the cheesy romance. Watch it for the sustainability messages, which shine as bright as LED Christmas lights.

At first glance, A Merry Little Ex-Mas looks like yet another holiday rom-com — a comforting, predictable love story done up in a tidy bow. Only in this case, that festive wrapper is made of green ribbon. Any environmentally-minded viewers will quickly clock Ex-Mas as not just a corny yuletide romp, but a PSA for sustainable living.  That’s why, on the Friday afternoon before Christmas, a few Grist staffers cozied up on their couches to watch a Netflix film our editor-in-chief assured us was actually a climate movie “disguised in holiday romance sappiness.” Alicia Silverstone (of Clueless fame, and a sustainability advocate in real life) plays an environmentalist named Kate, an architect turned handy-mom. Her passion for the planet — which manifests in familiar hippie tropes like composting, shopping secondhand, and making ornaments out of “recycled and found objects” — borders on obsession, in the eyes of family and friends tortured by such sins as handmade gifts and a carbon-sequestering live Christmas tree.  She’s been separated for months from her husband, a small-town doctor named Everett, who once upon a time whisked her away to his idyllic hometown of Winterlight, forcing her to leave her professional dreams behind in Boston. But enough about him. He barely matters. (Plus, he has about as much personality as recycled cardboard — perhaps why Kate likes him so much.) This movie isn’t about their reconciliation so much as it’s a hot cup of cocoa for the souls of neglected, crunchy, 40-something women who yearn to curl up with a movie that whispers, You are right. You are valued. You were smart to install all those solar panels.  As we started a running commentary on the movie in Slack, it didn’t take long for each of us to see something of ourselves in the protagonist. She shares her first name with senior staff writer Kate Yoder, along with a fondness for long words (like “thermodynamic”), and similar life experiences with associate editor Claire Elise Thompson, who also followed her doctor husband across the country. Teresa Chin, Grist’s executive editor, couldn’t help but identify with the antimaterialist mom who champions homemade and secondhand goods. Anyone who has given climate change more than a passing thought will probably find something in Kate to relate to.  All of the movie’s other characters are little more than props or foils for Kate, but there were two who caught our attention. One was Chet, Kate’s brief fling, a delightful himbo who appears to appreciate her interests more than anyone else in her life. Chet is to Winterlight what Kirk is to Stars Hollow, seemingly holding every job possible — including, we learn at the end, driving a snow plow as an emergency response volunteer. (Their love story would have made for a better movie, if we’re being honest.) The other was Kate’s house, nicknamed “the Mothership,” a picturesque Victorian that had us all cooing in the group chat because of its resemblance to the storied house from the movie Practical Magic. Spoiler alert: It’s the Mothership that truly saves the day in the end. Netflix Though the movie never mentions climate change explicitly, it’s sprinkled with environmental mentions. There are more references to sustainability than there are cheesy romance scenes. They go beyond the low-hanging fruit of eco-friendly lifestyle stuff like worm bins. Kate recommends a neighbor install a heat pump when her furnace breaks down. One of her fathers-in-law (yes, the family has two gay grandpas) asks her about geothermal energy. Her husband even calls her by the nickname “Al,” a reference to Al Gore — evidently the only environmentalist he’s heard of, apart from Kate.  Kate’s friends and family make fun of her environmentally-minded quirks. And she may deserve it a little — for much of the movie, she leans into the fun-killing environmentalist trope (at one point, in response to seeing Everett’s new house bedecked with energy-guzzling Christmas lights and inflatable lawn decorations, Kate exclaims, “I can hear the polar ice caps melting!”) But over the course of the movie, it becomes clear how much her loved ones admire her and share her values, if not in exactly the same way. Her kids, for instance, admit that her passion inspires them to pursue their own dreams.  And Kate’s preparedness comes to fruition when a windstorm knocks out the town’s power, leaving her solar-panel-and-battery-laden home the only one in Winterlight with lights (and, for that matter, heat). The neighbors flock to the Mothership like it’s a climate resilience hub. Inspired by the warmth of her community, Kate decides not to return to Boston to take up her old green architect job, but to stay in Winterlight with Everett and start her own sustainability company, which she describes as “making a difference in my community and changing the world, one person at a time.” It’s a model of “think global, act local.” As Teresa put it in our group chat about the film: “I mean, let’s call this movie what it was — a fantasy where everyone in your life eventually realizes that they were wrong, you are right, and you also get to live in the Practical Magic house during Christmastime.”  A Merry Little Ex-Mas may not be the rom-com of the century — maybe we’ll get the Kate-and-Chet chemistry that we deserve in a sequel — but as cozy wish fulfillment for people who care about the planet, it’s a 10 out of 10. This story was originally published by Grist with the headline This Netflix holiday rom-com is secretly an environmentalist fantasy on Dec 23, 2025.

The Push to Make U.S. College Students Climate Literate

Students and professors at universities across the country are pushing for general education requirements to equip students to combat climate change.

The majority of people in the United States want the government to do more to address climate change, according to a 2020 study by the Pew Research Center, yet few of them can be counted as “climate literate”—which the North American Association for Environmental Education defines through metrics such as being able to understand essential climate principles, assess the credibility of climate information, and make “informed and responsible decisions” where their actions may impact the climate. The purpose of being climate literate is not just to gain scientific knowledge, but to uncover climate perspectives and solutions that can inspire action. In 2023, Allianz surveyed Americans to see how climate literate they were, asking scientific questions like “What is the impact of the rise in temperature?” as well as political ones like “What is COP?”, referring to the annual Conference of the Parties meetings that broadly discuss climate action among U.N. member nations. Researchers found only five percent of Americans had a high level of climate literacy.  To close this gap in climate literacy, a burgeoning movement of students and professors is pushing for climate literacy to be integrated in general education. Some efforts have already succeeded, such as at the University of California, San Diego, which in 2024 became one of the first universities to require that all undergraduates complete a general education course related to climate change. The push to implement this requirement was the result of a student-faculty alliance that has been organizing toward “climate education for all” since 2021. Arizona State University also revamped its general education requirements in 2024, making a three-credit sustainability course mandatory for incoming students. The University of Massachusetts Amherst has a robust climate literacy program, though the university has not yet included this in its required coursework.  UC San Diego’s victory recently inspired a group of thirteen professors at the University of California, Davis, to propose a Climate Crisis General Education requirement for undergraduate students. Former UC Davis undergraduate students Chely Saens, Meghan Van Note, and Trisha Trilokekar wrote that since “climate issues affect all fields of study, the new study requirement would ensure that every student, regardless of their major, gains a broad understanding of climate science, justice, and solutions.” The proposal has collected at least 530 endorsements from various student and staff groups across campus. Should they succeed in implementing it, a graduating class in the near future would be required to learn about sanitation, clean energy, sustainable communities, and responsible consumption and production. Most of the proposed courses for the climate change requirement would overlap with existing general education requirements. Mark Huising, who teaches neurobiology and physiology at UC Davis’s College of Biological Sciences, was part of the group pushing for this general education requirement. “It’s part of our core mission as faculty—especially of higher learning—to make sure that the teachings that we do are broadly applicable and useful to the students that we teach,” he tells The Progressive.  Huising says he saw the stakes of integrating climate education into undergraduate studies in 2018, when a student in the front row of one of his courses raised their hand and to be excused, having just found out their home had burned down in the Camp Fire. It pushed Huising to think more deeply about how to teach at a time when many students (and faculty members) are impacted by climate disasters. He continuously sees students dealing with environmental issues that interfere with their education. “Air quality concerns are front of mind,” Huising says. “More regularly we have people in our community who are facing extreme heat in combination with housing instability.” He says the group who worked on the general education proposal wanted to make sure the required course didn’t just focus on the scientific elements of climate change, but also “the human connection,” including perspectives on climate justice and solutions that intertwine with coursework in urban planning, public policy, renewable energy, public health, law, ecology, politics, sociology, and journalism. This, he says, instills a “sense of urgency” and agency in creating a graduated workforce “ who knows how to navigate this information landscape around climate change.”  But the proposal is currently a standstill. ​​ Earlier this fall, the Academic Senate at UC Davis, the faculty governance system, declined to implement the proposal, citing logistical issues such as concerns about the school’s capacity to implement a new general education curriculum on a campus with more than 30,000 undergraduates. “ We can’t create a requirement for students and then set them up to not be able to take classes that they need, or increase their time to [earn their] degree,” Huising says. Still, he says, the proposal’s proponents believe they can address these concerns with a carefully planned curriculum rollout, and are currently working to address the concerns and bring the amended proposal back to the Academic Senate.  Huising and his colleagues have brainstormed ways to broaden the range of courses that could fulfill the requirement by enriching courses in the current curriculum with climate-focused lessons. For him, this means teaching his physiology students about the impacts of extreme heat on the human body. Similarly, one of his colleagues in the Department of Entomology and Nematology is incorporating lessons on how Indigenous land use and water management practices can control insect populations in wetlands in the Central Valley. The English department, meanwhile, is adding literature courses focused on climate issues to its course catalog. At Harvey Mudd College, a private liberal arts school in Southern California focused on science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM), chemistry and climate professor Leila Hawkins hopes to create a permanent climate-focused general education course. A current class called “STEM & Social Impact” is temporarily focused on climate change until next spring. “The question is, do we keep it on climate or do we do something else like [artificial intelligence] or other big sticky problems?” Hawkins says. The course is currently taught by an interdisciplinary group of seven professors, including Hawkins, who teaches basic earth science principles for the class. Three of the course teachers are humanities, social sciences, or arts faculty, while other four are STEM faculty. Hawkins says it’s important for the climate change requirement to have a permanent place in curriculum, given the implications of global climate change for her students’ futures, “and the fact that we have to vote for people who are going to weigh in on policy choices related to climate and energy and resilience and planning and adaptation.” If students are not adequately informed about what climate change is and what can be done about it, she says, “they’re going to be much less able to be productive participants in a functioning society that’s going to tackle this.” An established requirement should have some basic earth science content, Hawkins says, but also an equal measure of historical context around climate policies. “You cannot avoid the partisan climate conversation,” she says. “I think having a really open, productive conversation about how it has become such a divided issue is really important.”  Similar to UC Davis’s proposal, Hawkins says a focus on climate solutions is essential in these courses, because without it, “it’s depressing to some students to the point of being immobilizing or debilitating.” Solutions-focused learning gives a vast array of students an opportunity to understand how they could play a role in the solution space given their own strengths and abilities. “They might want to be an artist or an engineer or a computer scientist or a historian or a tradesman—or whatever they want to be,” Hawkins says, “but there’s going to be a way that they can work on a solution for climate if they want to with those skills and interests.” At the end of the day, Huising says there is “not a large ideological opposition to doing this, but people are very comfortable not making a change in how we do stuff . . . . And very importantly, when we survey our students and when we talk to our student leadership on campus, there’s widespread support for this,” Huising notes. Jill Webb is a Brooklyn-based award-winning journalist and audio producer who mainly covers mental health, the environment, and labor issues. Her work can be found at www.jillmwebb.com. Read more by Jill Webb December 22, 2025 5:04 PM

"Year of octopus" declared after warmer seas leads to record numbers

The Wildlife Trusts say its is "flabbergasted" by the sighting of the highest number of octopuses since 1950

"Year of octopus" declared after warmer seas leads to record numbersJonah FisherEnvironment correspondentWatch: Octopuses filmed by divers off the coast of Cornwall this yearA wildlife charity has declared 2025 "the Year of the Blooming Octopus" after record numbers were spotted off the south-west coast of England.In its annual marine review the Wildlife Trusts says octopus numbers were this summer at their highest level since 1950.Warmer winters, which are linked to climate change, are thought to be responsible for the population spike, which is known as a "bloom".The charity's findings are backed up by official figures which show that more than 1,200 tonnes of octopus was caught by fishermen in UK waters in the summer of 2025. The Wildlife Trusts/Kirsty AndrewsThe Wildlife Trusts says the highest number of octopuses has been seen off the south coast of Devon and Cornwall since 1950. It's a dramatic increase on previous years. Only once since 2021 has more than 200 tonnes of octopus been landed.Experts say most of those spotted are Octopus vulgaris a species commonly seen in the warmer Mediterranean Sea. Wildlife Trusts volunteers in Cornwall and Devon reported an increase in sightings of more than 1,500 percent on 2023 figures along one stretch of the south coast. "It really has been exceptional," says Matt Slater from the Cornwall Wildlife Trust. "We've seen octopuses jet-propelling themselves along. We've seen octopuses camouflaging themselves, they look just like seaweeds. "We've seen them cleaning themselves. And we've even seen them walking, using two legs just to nonchalantly cruise away from the diver underwater."It's unclear at this point whether the rise in numbers is permanent or cyclical, which would mean octopus numbers returning to more typical levels after this year's bloom. The eight-armed cephalopods eat shellfish such as lobster, crabs and scallops so the Wildlife Trusts warn that if population numbers remain high, both fishing and eating habits may have to change."They are having an impact on those (shellfish) species around our shores. And as a consequence, they will be having an impact on our fishing industry who target those species as well," Ruth Williams the head of marine for The Wildlife Trusts told the BBC's Today programmme. "But there are opportunities and our fishing industry are doing some research into that at the moment to try and evolve with the changing fisheries that we're seeing as a result of climate change."Government data shows crab landings down on previous years but catches of lobster, crawfish and scallops stable.Wildlife Trusts of South and West Wales/Lynne NewtonA record number of puffins were recorded on Skomer Island in Pembrokeshire this year. Alongside good news for octopus lovers, the Wildlife Trusts' marine review contains more sobering news.The Trusts say this year was bookended by environmental disasters, with a collision between an oil tanker and a container ship in the North Sea in March spilling huge quantities of plastic resin pellets, and nearly 4.5 tonnes of bio-beads released from a water treatment plant in Sussex in November.There was some better news for wildlife elsewhere, with a record 46,000 puffins recorded on Skomer, Pembrokeshire, while the charismatic black and white bird has made a comeback on the Isle of Muck following conservation efforts by Ulster Wildlife Trust to remove invasive brown rats.

Disaster after disaster: do we have enough raw materials to ‘build back better’?

Disasters like earthquakes and flood destroy homes and generate vast amounts of waste. Is there a better, greener way to rebuild affected communities?

This Christmas Day marks 21 years since the terrifying Indian Ocean tsunami. As we remember the hundreds of thousands of lives lost in this tragic event, it is also a moment to reflect on what followed. How do communities rebuild after major events such as the tsunami, and other disasters like it? What were the financial and hidden costs of reconstruction? Beyond the immediate human toll, disasters destroy hundreds of thousands of buildings each year. In 2013, Typhoon Haiyan damaged a record 1.2 million structures in Philippines. Last year, earthquakes and cyclones damaged more than half a million buildings worldwide. For communities to rebuild their lives, these structures must be rebuilt. While governments, non-government agencies and individuals struggle to finance post-disaster reconstruction, rebuilding also demands staggering volumes of building materials. In turn, these require vast amounts of natural resource extraction. For instance, an estimated one billion burnt clay bricks were needed to reconstruct the half-million homes destroyed in the Nepal earthquake. This is enough bricks to circle the Earth six times if laid end to end. How can we responsibly source such vast quantities of materials to meet demand? Demand causes problems Sudden spikes in demand have led to severe shortages of common building materials after nearly every major disaster over the past two decades, including the 2015 Nepal earthquake and the 2019 California wildfires. These shortages often trigger price hikes of 30–40%, which delays reconstruction and prolongs the suffering of affected communities. Disasters not only increase demand for building materials but also generate enormous volumes of debris. For example, the 2023 Turkey–Syria earthquake produced more than 100 million cubic meters of debris – 40 times the volume of the Great Pyramid of Giza. Disaster debris can pose serious environmental and health risks, including toxic dust and waterway pollution. But some debris can be safely transformed into useful assets such as recycled building materials. Rubble can be crushed and repurposed as base for low-traffic roads or turned into cement blocks . The consequences of poor post-disaster building materials management have reached alarming global proportions. After the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami, for example, the surge in sand demand led to excessive and illegal sand mining in rivers along Sri Lanka’s west coast. This caused irreversible ecological damage to two major watersheds, devastating the livelihoods of thousands of farmers and fisherpeople. Similar impacts from the overextraction of materials such as sand, gravel, clay and timber have been reported following other major disasters, including the 2008 Sichuan earthquake in China and Cyclone Idai in Mozambique in 2019. If left unaddressed, the social, environmental and economic impacts of resource extraction will escalate to catastrophic levels, especially as climate change intensifies disaster frequency. Urgent need for action This crisis has yet to receive adequate international attention. Earlier this year, several global organisations came together to publish a Global Call to Action on sustainable building materials management after disasters. Based on an analysis of 15 major disasters between 2005 and 2020, it identified three key challenges: building material shortages and price escalation, unsustainable extraction and use of building materials, and poor management of disaster debris. Although well-established solutions exist to address these challenges, rebuilding efforts suffer from policy and governance gaps. The Call to Action urges international bodies such as the United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction to take immediate policy and practical action. Building back better and safer After a disaster hits, it leaves an opportunity to build back better. Rebuilding can boost resilience to future hazards, encourage economic development and reduce environmental impact. The United Nations’ framework for disaster management emphasises the importance of rebuilding better and safer rather than simply restoring communities to pre-disaster conditions. Disaster affected communities should be rebuilt with capacity to cope with future external shocks and environmental risks. Lessons can be learned from both negative and positive experiences of past disasters. For example, poor planning of some reconstruction projects after the Indian ocean Tsunami (2004) in Sri Lanka made the communities vulnerable again to coastal hazards within a few years. On the other hand, the community-led reconstruction approach followed after the Bhuj earthquake, India (2001), has resulted in safer and more socio-economically robust settlements, standing the test of 24 years. As an integral part of the “build back better” approach, authorities must include strategies for environmentally and socially responsible management of building materials. These should encourage engineers, architects and project managers to select safe sustainable materials for reconstruction projects. At the national level, regulatory barriers to repurposing disaster debris should be removed, whilst still ensuring safe management of hazardous materials such as asbestos. For example, concrete from fallen buildings was successfully used as road-base and as recycled aggregate for infrastructure projects following the 2004 tsunami in Indonesia and 2011 Tohoku Earthquake in Japan. This critical issue demands urgent public and political attention. Resilient buildings made with safe sustainable material will save lives in future disasters. Missaka Nandalochana Hettiarachchi receives funding from WWF, an environmental NGO, through his role in disaster management

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