Beyond climate change: The real reasons California burns



My heart began racing as I watched my college housemate keep the faucet on while washing dishes in our shared sink. Even though I was newly moved to Michigan from drought-stricken Los Angeles, old habits die hard. Turn off the water between washing dishes. Keep your showers short. Turn on the sprinklers long enough to avoid a fine from the HOA but short enough to evade a fine for breaching the monthly water quota.

One thing all Angelenos have in common: They know how precious water is.

While bailouts may relieve pressure on politicians, your votes and voices can hold them accountable.

The drought that plagued California between 2012 and 2016 is considered the most severe in the state’s history. Thirteen of the 30 driest months on record occurred during this period, and Southern California’s dry desert climate bore the brunt of it.

I was in high school when the effects of the drought became palpable. The Santa Monica Mountains took on hues of dark brown and black, hot dirt blew up from the ground during the summertime, and every footstep on “grass” was accompanied by a distinctive crunch. Our rainy winters disappeared and melded with the hot summers, a dangerous combination with Santa Ana winds that are an annual event in Los Angeles, marking the transition from summer to fall.

These heavy winds that were, at most, an annoyance in my childhood turned deadly during the drought.

I remember the sensation of my eyes burning suddenly while studying in my high school library at the end of my junior year. The entire room was filled with smoke, the red sun burned through the orange sky, and ash was falling and collecting on the ground like snow. Just a few miles away, a passing car on the 101 freeway had accidentally ignited a piece of brush, and the flames rapidly spread over the tinderbox of underbrush covering the mountains that defined the landscape of my hometown, the Conejo Valley. The Santa Ana winds spread that small spark in 2013 into a fury called the Springs Fire, which burned over 24,238 acres in a just day and a half.

Five years later, my family was awakened by an evacuation notice after something as innocuous as a spark between two electrical wires in the Santa Monica Mountains erupted into the 2018 Woolsey Fire. That small spark turned into the worst wildfire in California’s history — up to now — burning through an astounding 96,949 acres of Malibu canyon’s stunning landscape, consuming more than 1,600 structures, and resulting in the third-highest insured loss in California history — $5.5 billion in total losses.

The fires ravaging Los Angeles County eclipse the Woolsey and Spring Fires combined, on track to become what the Los Angeles Times predicts to be “the costliest wildfire disaster in American history.”

Over 12,000 structures have been destroyed, and at least 24 people are dead. The row of quirky multimillion-dollar beach houses lining the Pacific Coast Highway are piles of rubble. Altadena, a diverse Los Angeles suburb dating back to the 1880s nestled into the foot of the majestic San Gabriel Mountains, has been almost completely destroyed. My adopted sister’s birth parents, who have called Altadena their home for decades now, have no place to return to, joining the tens of thousands of Angelenos who woke up last week to the same fate.

Growing up in Los Angeles, you are told that wildfires are just “a fact of life.” Dirty climate deniers contribute to climate change. Climate change causes hot summers, no rain, and extreme wind. Therefore, devastating wildfires are inevitable. Cracks in this narrative have become more evident, and beneath its veneer is the disgraceful reality of decades-long mismanagement — and corruption — from those governing the Golden State.

The drought was broken by two of the wettest back-to-back rain seasons Los Angeles had ever experienced between 2022 and 2024. Yet most of this precious rainwater has run into the ocean. Why? California hasn’t built a single reservoir since 1979, and environmentalist groups prevent any effort to update the state’s water infrastructure.

When failed policy turns deadly, the federal government steps in to bail out Sacramento and insurance companies, removing any incentive to enact common-sense wildfire prevention. Gov. Gavin Newsom (D) can continue kissing the environmentalists’ ring while insurance companies abandon homeowners. The only real losers are the family of four who watched their house burn down on live TV.

I don’t live in California any more. Its poor leadership is one of the main reasons why I left my beloved state four years ago. Watching the fires unfold from afar — seeing images of places that hold childhood memories burn to the ground — has been emotional, but it’s a sliver compared to what people are feeling who lost every material possession in a matter of hours.

This cycle of catastrophic wildfires will persist until Californians demand better from their government. While bailouts may relieve pressure on politicians, your votes and voices can hold them accountable. It’s in your hands, California. You deserve better — so demand it from your leaders, or vote them out.

How leadership failures fueled the flames in the Golden State



America is no stranger to natural disasters. But it’s not the fires, floods, or earthquakes that are the most devastating — it’s the repeated failures to learn from them, prevent them, and take responsibility for the damage.

My heart goes out to the families who have lost homes, cherished memories, and livelihoods. But if we’re going to help California rebuild and prevent future disasters, we need to confront some uncomfortable truths about leadership, responsibility, and priorities.

California — ironically, in the name of environmentalism — continues to ignore solutions that would protect both the environment and its residents.

While Californians continue to face heart-wrenching losses, those who have the power to enact change are mired in bureaucracy, regulation, and ideologies that do nothing to protect lives or preserve the land. The result? A state that keeps burning, year after year.

Where did all the water go?

We all know that water is essential to life. When NASA searches for signs of life on other planets, it looks for water. Yet, California has spent decades neglecting its water infrastructure. The state hasn’t built a new major reservoir since 1979 — over 40 years ago. Back then, California’s population was roughly half what it is today. Despite massive population growth, the state’s water storage capacity has remained frozen in time, woefully inadequate for current needs.

Moreover, billions of gallons of rainwater flow straight into the ocean every year because no infrastructure exists to capture and store it. Imagine how different things could be if California had built reservoirs, aqueducts, and desalination plants to secure water for its dry seasons.

Water is life, but the state’s failure to prioritize this essential resource has put lives and ecosystems at risk.

Misplaced priorities and critical leadership failure

This neglect of critical infrastructure is part of a larger failure of vision, and in California, the consequences of that failure are on full display.

Consider the progressive leadership in Los Angeles, where the mayor cut the fire department’s budget to fund programs for the homeless, funneling money to NGOs with little oversight. While helping the homeless is a worthy cause, it cannot come at the expense of protecting lives and property from catastrophic fires. Leadership must put safety and well-being over political agendas, and that’s not happening in Los Angeles.

The same misplaced priorities extend to environmental policies. Progressive leaders have blocked sensible forest management practices, prioritizing dead trees over living creatures. They reject controlled burns, forest thinning, and other commonsense measures, bowing to the demands of activists rather than considering real solutions that would protect those they govern.

California’s wildfire crisis is, in many ways, a man-made disaster. Yes, factors like Southern California’s dry climate, strong Santa Ana winds, and little rain play a role, but the biggest contributing factor is poor land management.

The forests are choked with dry brush, dead trees, and vegetation that turn every spark into a potential inferno. The crisis could have been mitigated — if only the state had made forest management and fire prevention a higher priority.

Finland and Sweden, for example, understand the importance of maintaining healthy forests. These countries have perfected the art of clearing underbrush and thinning trees sustainably, turning potential fire fuel into biomass energy. This approach not only reduces the risk of wildfires, but it also creates jobs, boosts the economy, and improves the ecosystem. And yet, California — ironically, in the name of environmentalism — continues to ignore these solutions that would protect both the environment and its residents.

We need to stop pretending that something as devastating as the Palisades and Eaton fires are just “part of life” and hold leaders accountable.

Insurance rules put California residents at risk

California faces another major and often overlooked liability when it comes to natural disasters: insurance.

California’s ongoing disasters make the state an uninsurable risk. Insurance companies are pulling out because the odds of widespread devastation are just too high. This creates a vicious cycle: With private insurers gone, the government steps in to subsidize high-risk areas. This enables people to rebuild in fire-prone zones, perpetuating the destruction. The solution isn’t more government intervention; it’s better decision-making.

This doesn’t mean abandoning people to their fate, but we must address the root of the problem: California’s inadequate disaster preparedness and poor land management. If the state continues to resist commonsense solutions like forest thinning, controlled burns, and better zoning laws, no amount of insurance or government assistance will ever be enough to mitigate the losses. The cycle will repeat until the costs — financial and human — become unbearable. It’s time to stop pretending the risk isn’t real and start making decisions that reflect the reality of California’s landscape.

What’s the solution? California’s government needs to put its people over harmful political agendas that put its residents at risk. Start by managing your forests. Implement controlled burns, remove dead trees, and clear underbrush.

But how you vote matters. California’s progressive policies have focused on political correctness and ideology instead of practical, lifesaving solutions. Until voters hold leaders accountable, the cycle of destruction will persist.

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Washington Post claims climate change increases 'domestic violence' risks for women



Climate change has been accused of being "inherently racist" and "sexist." It has been blamed for congenital heart defects. It now stands accused of another grievous category of misdeed.

According to an op-ed in the Washington Post, if a man in a poor country brutalizes a woman, his victim could attribute her aggressor's malice and cruelty at least in part to climate change.

The trio of authors advancing this notion — Geoffrey Ondieki, Disha Shetty, and Aie Balagtas See — tend to write about human rights, environmental, and women's issues.

In their article co-published Tuesday by the Post and the Fuller Project, their interests apparently converged, culminating in the suggestion that "the threat of violence could become more common as climate change makes extreme weather events more intense and frequent."

Terry McGovern, chair of the Population and Family Health department at Columbia University, told the Post, "Heat waves, floods, climate-induced disasters increase sexual harassment, mental and physical abuse, femicide, reduce economic and educational opportunity and increase the risk of trafficking due to forced migration."

McGovern conceded that the data remains limited on some fronts.

Nitya Rao, a gender professor at the University of East Anglia, suggested that the "climate discourse is all about the numbers, but the evidence on violence and changes in power dynamics cannot be captured that way, and so it is not given the same weight."

With an apparent dearth of proof to substantiate their claims, the article's authors seized upon an indirect link between bad weather and domestic violence taken up in the U.N.'s intergovernmental panel on climate change's recent report.

The U.N. report

"Climate increases conflict risk by undermining food and water security," said the U.N. report, which may ultimately lead to an increase in "violence against women, girls and vulnerable groups."

This claim was coupled with a concession: "The influence of climate is small compared to socioeconomic, political and cultural factors."

Although not as influential as proven causes of violence, the report noted that there was "limited evidence, high agreement" that the fetching of water in poorer countries affected by droughts and other natural phenomena may be associated with domestic violence, specifically in hypothetical instances where women are found not to have completed "daily water-related domestic tasks."

While contending that increases in temperature may also be associated with heightened conflict risk "in certain settings," this claim was accompanied with a caution: "medium agreement, low evidence."

One 2020 study cited in the report indicated that there was "no significant correlation between annual homicide rate and annual temperature for New York City," for instance, and that no "linkages between temperature and crime have been reported for Canada."

The panel did, however, agree with "medium evidence," that "during and after extreme weather events, women, girls and LGBTQI people are at increased risk of domestic violence, harassment, sexual violence and trafficking."

The term "climate change" was noticeably absent from this claim, where instead "weather" was used.

Culpability: A who or a what?

Like gun control activists who diminish human agency and assign blame to inanimate objects for bad behavior, the authors appear keen to link bad behavior to bad weather rather than just bad people.

The Post article cites the story of a Kenyan woman named Pilot Lenaigwanai, who was driven from her home by an abusive husband.

Lenaigwanai's "husband was abusive even before the drought that's now ravaging Kenya's arid north."

It is unclear whether Lenaigwanai would still have fled to the Umoja refuge had the weather been better, but it is clear from the article that the drought was not what made her husband abusive.

Rommel Lopez, a spokesman for a local social welfare department in the Philippines, suggested that bad weather may be among the conditions that exacerbate preexisting frustrations.

"When there’s a calamity or disaster or conflict, that can put families in difficulties. The situation at evacuation centers is a contributing factor," said Lopez. "It makes them agitated. It adds to their frustration. When someone is frustrated, they could reach a certain point and that could trigger [violence]."

Shilpi Singh, who helps women in India's poorest state, suffered no illusions about what beside cruel men and the cultural norms that help captivate their victims is at issue: "It comes down to economic distress. ... The men vent out their frustration by beating the women, who are raised with the belief that leaving is not an option."

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