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And it’s make a life-threatening situation even more dangerous.
The “Meteorologists” Facebook page has 51,000 followers, an iffy grasp of grammar rules, and outsized confidence in the United States’ weather engineering capabilities. “They are Aiming this KILLER Monster Hurricane Right at FLORIDA!” one user said of Hurricane Milton on Sunday morning, shortly before sharing purported photos of dinosaurs living on Mars.
By Monday afternoon, Milton had strengthened into a Category 5 storm, and the internet conspiracies were intensifying, too. People shared videos of themselves asking their Alexas, “What kind of hurricane was Hurricane Milton?” and getting answers in the past tense — proof, surely, that the government orchestrated the whole storm. “Never ever seen a hurricane form in the western Gulf and head directly EAST… It is not right,” other users mused in the comment sections of their local weather channels. A search for “cloud seeding” on Facebook further turned up dozens of posts tracking flight paths for planes belonging to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and sharing photos of ominous-looking clouds as evidence that the “government is involved.”
Hoaxes and misinformation reliably follow extreme weather events. Pictures of Hurricane Shark have circulated on social media after pretty much every major flood since 2011, and a photoshopped image of a storm cell over the Statue of Liberty resurfaces anytime there is bad weather in New York. In the aftermath of a major disaster, it’s especially tempting for bad actors to exploit the desperation for news and images.
But Hurricane Helene — which devastated swaths of Florida up into the Appalachians just over a week ago — revealed how far this has spun out of control. For one thing, hoaxes are simpler than ever for the average person to disseminate, thanks to the availability of AI image-making tools and the degradation of content moderation on disaster-response platforms like Twitter. These conspiracies may also then be reinforced and amplified by people with an interest in making the government’s response look bad — such as the Republican candidate for president of the United States, a Georgia congressperson, and Elon Musk.
While some lies — like Deep State cloud seeding — are relatively easy to see through, many rumors are much more difficult to fact-check when power, cell service, and internet are limited. Nicole McNeill, the Asheville, North Carolina-based director of storytelling of Climate Power, told me she and many of her neighbors fell for a widespread rumor that a second storm was going to hit the western part of the state immediately after Helene. The panic the rumor sparked risked lives: She saw a fight break out in a gas line between two men who were frantically trying to get out of town, and a young couple who were renting a home nearby tried to flee and ended up on a road that was closed. “We heard later that people had to sleep in their cars,” McNeill told me. “Local police had to be diverted from emergency response to direct traffic to clear the roads so emergency vehicles could pass. Misinformation made a desperate situation worse.” McNeill herself suffered a panic attack while trying to fix the holes in her roof from trees that had fallen during Helene, all in preparation for the second storm that would never come.
While there was no merit to those manufactured claims, the truth is in some ways even more alarming: Milton is looking like a worst-case scenario storm as it bears down on Tampa Bay, and at this point, the only thing anyone can control is getting good information to the people whose lives will depend on hearing it. Forecasters are doing a great job of that already, like South Florida hurricane specialist John Morales, who let his emotions show on air and connected the storm’s intensification to climate science.
Milton isn’t due to make landfall until Wednesday, but the misinformation already circulating online will make it more challenging for early warnings from the government and local experts to be heard and trusted. That job doesn’t get any easier after a storm. To fellow hurricane survivors, McNeill warned, “If you have patchy internet and you’re at 30% battery and worried about your phone running out, you’re often making split-second decisions. That’s where misinformation gets people.”
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Everyone knows the story of Mrs. O’Leary’s cow, the one that allegedly knocked over a lantern in 1871 and burned down 2,100 acres of downtown Chicago. While the wildfires raging in Los Angeles County have already far exceeded that legendary bovine’s total attributed damage — at the time of this writing, five fires have burned almost 16,000 acres — the losses had centralized, at least initially, in the secluded neighborhoods and idyllic suburbs in the hills above the city.
On Wednesday, that started to change. Evacuation maps have since extended into the gridded streets of downtown Santa Monica and Pasadena, and a new fire has started north of Beverly Hills, moving quickly toward an internationally recognizable street: Hollywood Boulevard. The two biggest fires, Palisades and Eaton, remain 0% contained, and high winds have stymied firefighting efforts, all leading to an exceedingly grim question: Exactly how much of Los Angeles could burn. Could all of it?
“I hate to be doom and gloom, but if those winds kept up … it’s not unfathomable to think that the fires would continue to push into L.A. — into the city,” Riva Duncan, a former wildland firefighter and fire management specialist who now serves as the executive secretary of Grassroots Wildland Firefighters, an advocacy group, told me.
When a fire is burning in the chaparral of the hills, it’s one thing. But once a big fire catches in a neighborhood, it’s a different story. Houses, with their wood frames, gas lines, and cheap modern furniture, might as well be Duraflame. Embers from one burning house then leap to the next and alight in a clogged gutter or on shrubs planted too close to vinyl siding. “That’s what happened with the Great Chicago Fire. When the winds push fires like that, it’s pushing the embers from one house to the others,” Duncan said. “It’s a really horrible situation, but it’s not unfathomable to think about that [happening in L.A.] — but people need to be thinking about that, and I know the firefighters are thinking about that.”
Once flames engulf a block, it will “overpower” the capabilities of firefighters, Arnaud Trouvé, the chair of the Department of Fire Protection Engineering at the University of Maryland, told me in an email. If firefighters can’t gain a foothold, the fire will continue to spread “until a change in driving conditions,” such as the winds weakening to the point that a fire isn’t igniting new fuel or its fuel source running out entirely, when it reaches something like an expansive parking lot or the ocean.
This waiting game sometimes leads to the impression that firefighters are standing around, not doing anything. But “what I know they’re doing is they’re looking ahead to places where maybe there’s a park, or some kind of green space, or a shopping center with big parking lots — they’re looking for those places where they could make a stand,” Duncan told me. If an entire city block is already on fire, “they’re not going to waste precious water there.”
Urban firefighting is a different beast than wildland firefighting, but Duncan noted that Forest Service, CALFIRE, and L.A. County firefighters are used to complex mixed environments. “This is their backyard, and they know how to fight fire there.”
“I can guarantee you, many of them haven’t slept 48 hours,” she went on. “They’re grabbing food where they can; they’re taking 15-minute naps. They’re in this really horrible smoke — there are toxins that come off burning vehicles and burning homes, and wildland firefighters don’t wear breathing apparatus to protect the airways. I know they all have horrible headaches right now and are puking. I remember those days.”
If there’s a sliver of good news, it’s that the biggest fire, Palisades, can’t burn any further to the west, the direction the wind is blowing — there lies the ocean — meaning its spread south into Santa Monica toward Venice and Culver City or Beverly Hills is slower than it would be if the winds shifted. The westward-moving Santa Ana winds, however, could conceivably fan the Eaton fire deeper into eastern Los Angeles if conditions don’t let up soon. “In many open fires, the most important factor is the wind,” Trouvé explained, “and the fire will continue spreading until the wind speed becomes moderate-to-low.”
Relief is supposed to begin Wednesday night, meaning firefighters will have a crucial opportunity to gain a foothold — an opportunity that will increase after the red flag warning expires on Friday. But “there are additional winds coming next week,” Kristen Allison, a fire management specialist with the Southern California Geographic Area Coordination Center, told me earlier today. “It’s going to be a long duration — and we’re not seeing any rain anytime soon.”
As wildfires spread through the Los Angeles area, one resident of a tony neighborhood made a desperate plea for help on social media. “Does anyone have access to private firefighters to protect our home in Pacific Palisades?” asked Keith Wasserman on X. “Will pay any amount.” The reaction was predictable: Some users expressed their wish that Wasserman’s house would burn down, while others found earlier tweets in which he had cheered Donald Trump’s pledges to lower taxes, and even once said “Real estate ballers don’t pay any taxes!”
It’s hard to feel too much sympathy for a rich guy getting what looks like a pointed object lesson in the necessity of universal services: If you’re disappointed that the government wasn’t able to save your house in a disaster, perhaps you should reconsider your advocacy for lowering the taxes that fund things like the fire department. But once we get the mockery out of our systems, perhaps we should approach Mr. Wasserman and his like-minded peers with a more open heart, and see this particular disaster as an opportunity to convince more people like him that we’re all in the path of the same threats.
Because like it or not, addressing climate change requires the help of the wealthy — not just a small number of megadonors to environmental organizations, but the rich as a class. The more they understand that their money will not insulate them from the effects of a warming planet, the more likely they are to be allies in the climate fight, and vital ones at that.
As of this writing the fires in Los Angeles are still burning, but it already appears that they could be among the costliest in history, not because of their size but because they are reducing some of the priciest real estate in America to ashes. It’s another vivid lesson in a truth more people need to learn: Climate change will affect everyone, no matter how much money you have.
Yes, those most affected will be people without resources, who live in vulnerable areas they can’t easily flee, and who are unable to harden their homes and communities against the most destructive effects of warming. Those with the lowest incomes feel the brunt of climate change in multiple ways.
But there’s a difference between being less vulnerable and being invulnerable. There are only so many times you can rebuild your beach house, only so many private firefighters you can hire, and only so often you can turn up the air conditioning. We saw in Asheville how a place believed to be a “climate haven” turned out to be just as susceptible to natural disaster as anywhere else. In the end, climate change comes for us all. And experiencing a climate-related event has a significant impact on whether people both accept the reality of climate change and prioritize it as a political issue.
The more wealthy people believe that climate change is a threat to them and support policies that mitigate emissions, the better the chances that those policies will be translated into law. A number of studies by political scientists in recent years have shown that the policy preferences of the wealthy are more likely to prevail; it’s one of those findings that no one is surprised by, but it’s useful to have it demonstrated empirically. The wealthy are more politically active, donate more money, and are generally treated by politicians as though they cannot be ignored.
So while mass mobilization is a key component of successful movements, it doesn’t hurt to have rich people on your side, too. Surveys already show that higher-income voters are somewhat more likely to support policies to address climate change, though the differences are not that large. And if increasing numbers of them decide that the government has to institute more climate-friendly policies, wealthier voters might even put pressure on the party that usually represents their interests as a class: the GOP.
Admittedly, getting the wealthy to unite with the rest of us in common purpose will not be easy. One of the primary functions of wealth is to insulate the privileged from negative externalities of existence, both large and small. It separates them from ordinary people and the ordinary headaches of life. The wealthy glide through the world as though on a moving walkway, exempted from having to wait in lines or get their hands dirty or spend time worrying about their vulnerability. And they often use their political influence to insulate themselves even further, advocating for policies that starve the government of funds and exacerbate inequality.
Moreover, disasters like the fires we’re seeing right now wind up being interpreted through existing political lenses; Donald Trump is blaming them on the governor of California, to whom he refers, classy and mature as ever, as “Gavin Newscum,” while other conservatives are angrily denying that warming temperatures had anything to do with the destruction in southern California.
Nevertheless, there’s room for a generous response, to say even to the wealthiest of victims that we’re sorry they suffered the consequences of warming and hope they’ll become allies in the fight against climate change, because we’re all in it together. We all need robust public infrastructure (including an effective fire department), along with policies that will make wildfires and other disasters less destructive. The more people who come into the tent — even if it was only once they had to flee a disaster they only thought would affect the little people — the better off we’ll be.
The Santa Ana winds are carrying some of the smoke out to sea.
Wildfires have been raging across Los Angeles County since Tuesday morning, but only in the past 24 hours or so has the city’s air quality begun to suffer.
That’s because of the classic path of the Santa Ana winds, Alistair Hayden, a public health professor at Cornell who studies how wildfire smoke affects human health, told me. “Yesterday, it looked like the plumes [from the Palisades fire] were all blowing out to sea, which I think makes sense with the Santa Ana wind patterns blowing to the southwest,” Hayden said.
But with the Eaton fire now raging near Pasadena, northeast of Los Angeles, the air quality across large swaths of the city is deteriorating, Hayden said. That’s because the winds are now carrying a smoke plume as they travel down to the coast. And the situation is still changing rapidly.
At 6:30 p.m. Pacific time on Wednesday, the historic core of L.A. registered an air quality index of 105, according to the AirNow fire and smoke map, part of the federal government’s national air quality index. Anything over 100 is considered unhealthy for sensitive groups such as asthmatics. In Pasadena and East Los Angeles, the AQI was in the high 180s, 190s, and even the low 200s, which ranks as “unhealthy” or “very unhealthy” for everyone.
The AirNow map is a joint effort of the Interagency Wildland Fire Air Quality Response Program and the Environmental Protection Agency, incorporating smoke plume data from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s satellites, Hayden said.
It also shows readings from the EPA’s permanent air quality monitors set up across Los Angeles. And it includes data from cheaper, commercial sensors — from manufacturers such as PurpleAir — that people can set up in their homes and backyards. The AirNow site also calibrates the data from those commercial sensors so that they can be more accurately compared to the government’s more robust and scientific air quality sensors. (Many websites that display the PurpleAir data do not calibrate the data in this way, he said, which can lead to faulty readings.)
In recent years, wildfire smoke has become a major driver of America’s air pollution.
“We’ve been so successful that cleaning up our air through the Clean Air Act and other state-level activities that the air has been getting better for decades,” Hayden told me. “Now, with the growth of these huge wildfires emitting large amounts of pollution, that has undone some of the progress of all this awesome work over this past decade.
“It’s amazing what we can do when we choose to do so,” he said. “But it shows there’s more work needed to be done of how do we protect communities from this current and growing threat of not just wildfires, but the smoke from those wildfires as well.”