Keeping the Spigot Throttled Back

I’ve recently seen something that’s been missing from the North Bay for the last couple of years, pallets of sod stacked on sidewalks and ready to be laid.  I’m unhappy about what I’m seeing.  I’m far from convinced that the California drought is over.

Sod-happy homeowners aren’t the only ones calling for what I fear would be a premature celebration of the end of the drought.  Some public officials in the North Bay have begun calling for an end to water use restrictions.  And an East Bay homeowners association is threatening to lock out homeowners who don’t green up their lawns.  (For the record, I share the homeowners association distaste with brown lawns but, rather than making renewed watering an option, I would have pushed for sod removal and low water-demand landscaping.) 

Those arguing that the drought is over in the North Bay point to full reservoirs.  It would have been a compelling argument in 1979, but not so much today.

In 1979, we had a fairly good understanding of long-term weather patterns.   We understood that the drought that was then ending had been historically severe, with a long recurrence interval, and that we were returning to more normal precipitation.   So easing drought restrictions was reasonable and appropriate.

But in 1979, the world was about to change, in a very literal sense.  Today, with climate change well underway, we don’t know what a normal precipitation year looks like.  We know that the current water year seems destined to finish about five percent over the historical average, but we don’t know if the historical average will have any relevance in coming years.  Instead, we have good reason to suspect that it won’t.

At least one theory of climate changes argues that the weather will tend toward extremes, with long periods of drought interrupted by shorter periods of heavy rainfall.  It’s a description that seems similar to recent weather patterns.  Three years of deep drought, followed by the recent mildly wet winter.  Perhaps it’s the pattern that will become common.

The situation becomes even more disturbing with a closer look at this past winter.  Because of El Nino, many experts anticipated a high rainfall total.  Instead, we got a winter that was barely above the historical average.  Perhaps this past winter will become the “wet winters” of the future, with far less rain than the wet winters of the past.

I’m not suggesting that my crystal ball is perfect.  I don’t know what the future rainfall pattern in the North Bay will be.  But neither does anyone else.  And I suspect that my scenario of frequent drought years interspersed with years of close to historical average rainfall will be nearer the coming reality than will be a return to the historical rainfall pattern.

Besides, it’s not like we were unduly burdened by the drought regulations.  As far as I know, no one died of thirst.  And I didn’t find myself in more crowds than usual in which I wondered about the personal hygiene of others.

Faced with meteorological uncertainty and the fairly low inconvenience of being conservative, caution seems the only reasonable course.  If we act otherwise, we might well irrigate the new sod of 2016 with the water we’ll desperately want for toilet flushing in 2019.

 Nor is justifiable caution the only grounds for continuing water conservation standards.  As I’ve written previously, there’s a logical argument that California, with a surfeit of arable land and a paucity of precipitation even under historical conditions, has always been in a state of drought.  Conserving domestic water use and instead routing it to agriculture, whether for vineyards that produce wine to be sold elsewhere, bringing cash to the North Bay, or for crops targeted for local tables, is reasonable public policy.

So there you have two good reasons for continuing water conservation.  I don’t think any more are needed.

Before closing, I should respond to an argument that often made at this point of the drought discussion, which is that the North Bay should halt all development until we understand the ramifications of climate change on regional water available.  (A similar argument is often made on traffic.)

At first glance, it’s an intuitively compelling argument, but quickly falls apart in a free society.

We don’t put up barricades barring movement into communities during constrained times.  And as the North Bay is an attractive destination, whether for work, lifestyle, or both, people will still move here despite a drought.  If we’re not building new homes, then they’ll buy existing homes, pushing out those who lack the resources to compete for housing.

(It may seem surprising that building million dollar homes reduces the stress on the lower end of the demographic scale, but it really does work that way.  If someone who can afford a million dollar home wants to move to the North Bay but those homes don’t exist, they may buy a less expensive home and put the extra dollars toward upgrades.  The impact of that decision propagates down the demographic scale until someone is displaced at the bottom.)

The inevitability of new residents and the desire to accommodate them without displacing current residents, along with the goal of building homes near jobs to reduce commutes, is why regional agencies require all Bay Area cities to have housing plans that allow reasonable growth.

So, if water and traffic capacity are constrained, perhaps forever, and yet growth will still occur, what kind of growth should it be?  How about walkable urbanism with its reduced car trips and lesser water demands?

I love it when all the pieces fit together nicely.

Oh, and the dry fountain shown in the photo?  It’s now filled with soil and low water-demand plants.  I doubt it will ever again be a fountain.  I miss the burble, but life goes on.

Although it nearly slipped past me, Jane Jacobs' 100th birthday was this week.  I’ve written about Jacobs many times in the space.  In my next post, I’ll link some of the past posts and also draw a lesson from one of her few failures.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Whither the Drought?

As December reaches its midpoint, Californians are looking with hope toward El Nino and the rainfall that it’s predicted to deliver.  The oft expressed hope is that El Nino “will end the drought.”

Perhaps it’s a Christmas Grinch mode, but I find that the hope misses the point.

It’s not that I doubt the El Nino predictions.  I don’t have enough meteorological knowledge to have a useful opinion either way.  But there seems to be a strong scientific consensus on the likelihood of strong precipitation from El Nino and I’m a believer in scientific consensus.

My concern is deeper.  As much as anyone, I hope for good rain this winter.  But my wish isn’t for drought-ending rain, but for rain that will position us better when the drought reasserts itself.  I suspect, and fear, that the drought is perpetual.

I’ll make two independent arguments for perpetual drought.

The first is climate change.   If there are readers who want to debate climate change, please go elsewhere.  This isn’t the forum for that debate.  As noted above, I’m a believer in scientific consensus and the consensus on this massively studied subject is strong.  I’d be pleased if we’re not sliding into a cataclysmic change to our planet, but believe that possibility is remote.

Within the climate change theory is an expectation that the weather will bounce more quickly between extremes.  The higher energy in a warming system will provide the motive force to change between more severe weather events.  At the same time, it’s likely that the overall rainfall on the planet will be greater, as the higher temperatures will increase evaporation, which will in turn result in more rainfall as the hydrological balance is maintained.

So a possible model for California in a changed climate world would be several years of severe drought followed by winters of heavy rain, some of which will fill depleted reservoirs and much of which will fall at such high rates that it’ll run off before it provides much benefit.  Sound familiar?

A data point supporting this climate change scenario is a study from the Woods Hole Oceanography Institution in which the researchers report that the current drought, when considering both the paucity of rainfall and the higher temperatures, is the worst within the 1,200 year study window.

Some argue that droughts are a periodic element of the California climate and that the current drought is no different.  But the Woods Hole report refutes that, finding that the current drought is worse than anything in our memories.  Regardless of the side one takes on the climate change debate, it should be unnerving that the ongoing drought is worse than any California drought since at least when Charlemagne ruled France.

Even worse, the Woods Hole report was issued in December 2014, with a note that the Pineapple Express was expected to shortly ease the drought.  From our vantage point in December 2015, we know that the Pineapple Express delivered a couple of strong storms, but the drought soon reestablished itself and has continued for another year.  So the Woods Hole report, as scary as it might have been, understated the situation.

My other perpetual drought argument is an idea put by Faith Kearns and Doug Parker of the University of California Department of Agriculture and Natural Resources.  Kearns and Parker propose that California, with its huge supply of arable land and natural shortage of precipitation, has always been in a state of drought, with every gallon of water that can be saved from other uses or made available by new water projects having a potential use in agriculture.

By their argument, California has been a state of drought or impending drought since John C. Fremont rode through the Central Valley in the 1840s and described it as a desert filled with otherwise arable land.

Kearns and Parker further argue that water is subject to induced demand, which each new water supply project encouraging growth that puts the state back on the edge of drought.  They draw a parallel to the theory of induced traffic.  (Oddly, they describe the theory of induced water demand as still gaining traction, while induced traffic is commonly accepted.  In my experience, I regularly interact with people who are far from accepting the concept of induced traffic.)

Based on the attitude sometimes taken toward the wine industry in the North Bay, I know that some feel no obligation to conserve water in order to expand agriculture.  But I’ll argue that perspective is wrong.

In the modern economies, cities, states, and nations thrive by having products that can be exported.  This article from the New York Times graphically depicts the extent to which California agriculture feeds the country and the world.

Perhaps I don’t personally benefit when another bottle of wine or pound of almonds is sold to New York or Japan, but California benefits and that will provide indirect benefits to me, for which I’m willing to conserve water.

And I agree with the argument of Kearns and Parker there will always be that connection between water conservation and agricultural production.

So there you have it, two independent but complementary arguments that we’ll never again be free from drought.

What are the implications for our way of life?  To begin, the movement toward low-water use landscaping and indoor water conservation must continue.  The current drought rules, although needing some tidying up, must remain in force.

But even more importantly is the understanding that our use of water goes far beyond the amount we pull from a faucet.  As just one example, many sources of energy require water, so driving to an out-sized home at the urban fringe costs us water both for the gasoline and the home heating.

Urbanism would address both.  Walkable urbanism is a rational response to perpetual drought.

Our frontyard fountain has now been dry for nearly two years.  I don’t expect to ever run it again.  I miss the quiet burble, but it may be time to convert the fountain into a planter.

I’ll be leaving shortly for a pre-holiday visit to in-laws living in a community in the extended South Bay.  It’s a town I’ve visited several times in my role as dutiful son-in-law, even having taking a number of photos of the urbanist aspects, both good and bad.  In my next post, I’ll share photos and my updated urbanist impressions of the town.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

It’s Time to be Smart about Water, Not Politically Expedient

During recent candidate forums, several contenders for the Petaluma City Council suggested that the City consider a moratorium on building permits until the drought eases.  I’ll speculate that other North Bay cities are entertaining similar thoughts.

I support the need to respond to the drought.  The water shortfall is significant, may not slacken during the coming winter, and could be indicative of a systemic change.  But a blanket moratorium is the wrong tool for several reasons.

First, a moratorium without simultaneous regulatory adjustments is tantamount to considering the drought a normal and random element of the climate cycle, thereby supporting a position taken by climate change deniers.

I’m not saying that candidates who suggested a moratorium are climate change deniers.  I’m sure that few if any of them are within that camp.  But they’ve mistakenly offered a position that aligns with a key proposition put forth by deniers.

 (I won’t delve more deeply into a climate change discussion because I don’t want this post to be sidetracked into a discussion on the validity of the theory.  It’s a worthy topic, but not for today.)

Another problem with a blanket moratorium is that it doesn’t reposition our communities for when the drought may ease.  If we get enough rain to believe the drought is over and begin issuing new building permits without a change in the water use standards, we’d have wasted an opportunity to make our communities more resilient.

Lastly, we’re in a time when our communities should be evolving in responses to multiple challenges such as municipal finances and non-drought climate change issues.  A blanket moratorium, stopping all development, would impede our progress toward other goals.

Luckily, a better alternative can be conceived.  In place of the blanket moratorium suggested by the candidates, I propose a two-phase moratorium.  Initially, North Bay cities can impose a short-term moratorium on all building permits, but only for long enough to rework development standards to define water-smart standards for new or remodeled buildings.

Some will object that North Bay cities lack funds within current budgets, particularly if tax measures fail, to undertake code revisions.  The concern is legitimate, but Petaluma, and likely other cities, has a wealth of knowledgeable engineers and developers with water backgrounds, many of whom would probably be willing to offer their expertise toward writing new rules.  In fact, there may be an opportunity for regional code-revision cooperation.

Some effort by city staffs would still be required to incorporate the information into the zoning code, but it would be far less than if the staffs had to also develop the concepts without assistance.

Next, as the first moratorium expires and emergency revisions are made to the zoning code, a second moratorium would be imposed on projects that don’t meet the water-smart standards.  The duration on this latter moratorium would be indefinite, lasting until the city councils judge that the drought has ended.  If the more pessimistic projections on climate change are valid, the second moratorium may never be lifted.  Hopefully, that won’t be the case, but it’s a possibility.

The obvious direction in which these moratoriums would push residential development would be toward multi-family homes.  It’s easier to be water-smart without either a frontyard or a backyard.  And a move toward multi-family would likely include more housing in walkable urban settings, which I would applaud.

But single-family residential would still be possible.  I recently chatted with a North Bay single-family developer who is proposing use of a treatment system that would allow use of treated greywater from showers and washing machines for surface application.  (The greywater systems now used in a few locations around the North Bay only allow subsurface application.)

The developer estimated that he could save almost 20,000 gallons per home per year.  That would be 20,000 gallons of potable water that needn’t be treated and delivered and 20,000 gallons of greywater that needn’t be conveyed away for treatment at a municipal wastewater plant.

The system he proposes is in regular use in Europe and Australia, but unknown in the U.S.  It’s that kind of innovation and adoption that the proposed two-phase moratorium would foster.

Thanks to the Petaluma City Council candidates for raising the subject.  Now, let’s hone their idea and ensure that it best meet the needs of our communities.

Before closing, one other comment should be made.  The savings from requiring new or remodeled buildings to be more water-smart is worthwhile and, with the right technology, significant.  But those savings are dwarfed by the savings that could be achieved at existing homes and businesses.  Between retrofitted fixtures, changed landscaping patterns (my wife and I removed the last of our grass nearly ten years ago), and reduced consumption encouraged by more sharply tiered rates, water use at existing buildings can be sharply curtailed.

To fall into the trap of believing that we’ve imposed a moratorium and therefore solved the problem would be both wrong and harmful.  Instead, we must look into the mirror for the most important elements of water conservation.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)