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An animation historian on Reddy Kilowatt, the cartoon charged with electrifying everything in the early 20th century.

With all the attention paid to electric vehicles and heat pumps, the 2020s might seem like the decade of home electrification — but nothing might ever rival the boom of the original Roaring Twenties. By 1929, 70% of all American homes had access to electricity, double the figure from the beginning of the decade – bringing home electrification from minority to majority.
Home electrification was so big back then, it even had a mascot: Reddy Kilowatt. Invented by a marketer at the Alabama Power Company in 1926, this cheery spokescharacter with a lightning-bolt body and a lightbulb nose was licensed to hundreds of utility companies throughout the greater part of the 20th century to promote electricity – and more specifically investor–owned utilities. Reddy was even used as a tool to link government-owned utilities to socialism or communism in years following World War II.

I first came across Reddy Kilowatt last year when a climate tech peer emailed me an image of him, probably from the 1950s, powering everything from a hot water heater to a record player with the headline “Your all Electric Home.”

For weeks I couldn’t stop thinking about that headline because I kept hearing people in the decarbonization movement say similar things (does Electrify Everything ring a bell?). Itching to learn more of the history of Reddy, I reached out to an expert.
Dr. Kirsten Moana Thompson is a professor at Seattle University who teaches and writes about animation. Her paper, Live Electrically with Reddy Kilowatt, Your Electrical Servant, explores the history of this “phenomenally successful and ubiquitous spokescharacter.”
I chatted with Dr. Moana Thompson over a video call from her office where a framed illustration of Reddy Kilowatt hung behind her. I went into the call thinking about positioning this article, “Is America ready for another Reddy?,” but by the end I learned he may be best left in the 1900s. The following interview was edited for length and clarity.
Mike Munsell
Can you introduce yourself and tell me how you ended up researching Reddy Kilowatt?
Dr. Kirsten Moana Thompson:
I'm a professor and chair of the film and media department at Seattle University, and Reddy Kilowatt was part of my research into animation that has been used in sponsored media — that is media used for non-traditional, non-entertainment purposes to do something else, like sell something, instruct you, persuade you. It forms a chapter in what will be a new book coming out in the next couple of years on animation and advertising. I think Reddy Kilowatt is a great example of how popular it was in the post-war period to use animated spokescharacters to sell products or ideas.
Munsell:
I’m curious: Are animated mascots less prevalent today than back in the post-war period?
Thompson:
My research doesn’t focus on the contemporary era, so I couldn't give you a precise example. But certainly, as late as the ‘70s, animation characters still were extensively used to promote products, not just cereal, and toys, but things like bubble bath and candy and, well into the ‘70s, alcohol as well.
There are lots of reasons for that, because certain types of animation were fairly cheap to produce, were appealing, often comedic, and attention grabbing. They were a great means to sell a product — also great to use for abstract or more complex processes, like, how do you make oil or petrol or gas? How do you convey a concept like capitalism? Animation, as opposed to live action, was often a more successful way to convey or target topics of that nature.
We have to anthropomorphize the things that are too abstract, too conceptual, or too inhuman to make them translatable into something that we can comprehend and relate to. Hence the Geico lizard or the Aflac duck.
Munsell
And that makes sense then for Reddy Kilowatt to advertise electricity back when it was new, right?
Thompson
Yes, it really emerged around the time electrification was in two thirds of American households — by 1930. And electrical utility companies needed to find an appealing way to sell their product and to encourage consumer consumption of things like appliances, which themselves were emerging — things like dishwashers and washing machines and hair dryers and so on. But also rural electrification, and electrification for business purposes and factories, and on farms.
[Reddy Kilowatt] emerged targeting a fairly affluent consumer, by, for example, turning electricity into a servant – an abstract servant that was personalized and anthropomorphized.
But it was also a way of rather cleverly justifying rate increases as well, which occurred a little later, by making Reddy Kilowatt literally a figure that earns wages and was regarded as an employee by many electrical utility companies. So it's a clever way to say to people, hey, everybody deserves a wage and Reddy Kilowatt deserves a wage and prices are going up, so we're going to put his wages up. And that's a fair thing.

Munsell:
The Smithsonian has a huge collection of Reddy Kilowatt material. Did you get to go check that out?
Thompson:
Yes, I did. The archives are extensive. And so you can read all about how [Reddy Kilowatt creator] Ashton Collins promoted the product, and what the kinds of speeches that he gave to many other business companies and electrical utility companies in the 30s and 40s.
But he's part of a wider movement. There are other leading figures like Walt Disney and Walter Lantz, who were animation studio heads. Walter Lantz, of course, ran what he would pick the Walter Lantz studios that produced Woody Woodpecker and Andy Panda, and a number of other popular cartoons of the 40s. And Walt Disney, of course, we're all familiar with. But they all believed that the kinds of skills that animation studios were doing in the 1940s — by making cartoons to train troops to operate machinery or rifles, and by making propaganda to translate the values of the fight for democracy against fascism — they believed that those skills could be applied to the commercial market in the post-war period. And that animation was a key element of visual culture that could translate to a sometimes illiterate population or partially illiterate population.
So Ashton Collins is not alone there. He's part of a broader movement in the film industry and in the animation industry, to understand the unique power of animation to communicate and to sell and persuade.
Munsell
Did you find anything in your research particularly surprising?
Thompson
In addition to extensive print materials in the Smithsonian, you see dozens and dozens of objects that featured Reddy Kilowatt. His image is on everything from stickers to comic books to toys, and other giveaways for kids to little marionettes, and robots, which were used in trade shows and trade fairs. [Author’s note: eBay has an extensive Reddy Kilowatt collection]
It was used in the 1939 World's Fair, for example, to communicate and to encourage the public to interact with Reddy Kilowatt as if it was a real figure. I was quite taken with this – it's really an early form of animatronics. They were using an avatar, a spokescharacter, who was fairly ubiquitous in the American home, on people's electricity bills, and combining it with a large three dimensional object with a record player attached and somebody who operated the speaking, to interact with kids at fairs and to communicate basic ideas. So that was really exciting in a way because it shows how ahead of its time Ashton Collins was at understanding interactivity.
Mike Munsell
I was thinking about copyright and trademark law and the public domain. Reddy Kilowatt was, in his original form, created in 1926. We're coming up on that 100 year mark. Is there a chance he enters the public domain?
Dr. Moana Thompson
I'm not sure about that. Because you can renew copyright. Which of course Disney did repeatedly before it finally had to succumb to the end of copyright. And Reddy is also a trademark as opposed to a copyrighted image. So he has not just appeared in what is public access now, some of his films and TV commercials, but he's also a trademark figure that has a continuing commercial currency. And Ashton Collins was absolutely rigorous at paying attention to trademark law. He sued other companies that had similar characters, like Willie Wired Head.

I suspect that Xcel Energy [who now owns the rights to Reddy Kilowatt] is going to be very strict in policing its trademarks. Because if this product has value as a commodity of nostalgia for a certain generation, or multiple generations, or even if it has a new function in Xcel’s future corporate identity, he's going to have value.
Munsell
I guess your research sort of doesn't get quite into the present day, but for my understanding Reddy Kilowatt is not really used much today. It was used by a utility in Barbados and an Ecuadorian soccer club more recently, but from your understanding do you know why he stopped being used?
Thompson
Well, I'm not sure that he stopped being used. I have seen the return of Reddy Kilowatt as a consumer figure and as a licensed product that appears on T-shirts and stickers. Amazon has been selling quite a lot of Reddy Kilowatt products. So it's possible that Xcel Energy that owns the trademark sees the value of the product for a new market, which is the nostalgic market, where you can sell a cartoon character itself.
Munsell: I do think that with the emergence of heat pumps, and induction stoves, there is a push toward home electrification and moving away from fossil fuels in your home. I wonder if that’s an opportunity for a reemergence of Reddy?
Thompson
Yeah, it could be an opportunity for them to repurpose the trademark.
Munsell
Is there anything else you wanted to add about your research into Reddy?
Thompson
I thought it was interesting, the blend that Reddy Kilowatt had of both the impersonal and the personal. On the one hand, we've mostly been talking about it as this cute cartoony character of appeal and personality. But on the other hand, he represents an abstract concept, which is almost robotic. He was literally a robot as part of his marketing. This concept of the kilowatt as one and a half horsepower was part of this wider discursive emergence in the ‘20s that electricity was both a servant, as an anthropomorphized figure, and an abstraction that is there at the flick of a switch.
And in their marketing, they used imagery that of course would never be used today. The association of kilowatt as both a “coolie” – which was the specific language used – and a slave.
So this kind of racist imagery is interesting because it gets to the roots of this idea of the dehumanized, depersonalized aspects of Reddy Kilowatt – that electricity represented by using this imagery, and they had little pictures of kilowatt, which were described as a slave or a “coolie” to explain that, basically, this was free labor and unlimited labor. So obviously addressed to an implicitly white consumer. [The idea that] racial imagery of course affected all kinds of aspects of American advertising is well known to scholars in this field and often played on imagery of blackness or whiteness, in the case of soap advertising, for example, but Reddy Kilowatt in particular is this machinic identity.
And who knows, maybe that'll come back again in the future, because machines are so much more part of our lives now, as compared to 1926 or the mid century with computers and artificial intelligence.
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Director Josh Fox on his latest film, The Welcome Table, plus Shakespearean comedy and the New York Knicks.
After images of oil-slicked waterfowl and marching protesters, there is perhaps no visual more representative of the fossil fuel crisis than the flaming faucet in Josh Fox’s 2010 documentary GasLand. The film, which investigated how the fracking boom pollutes local communities, memorably included a scene of a man lighting his kitchen tap water on fire as methane spewed out through the contaminated water line. As one reporter wrote several years after its initial release, GasLand was the film that made “fracking” a household word in the United States.
Over 16 years and about a quarter of a million more American oil and gas wells later, the climate crisis caused by human use of fossil fuels has grown ever more acute. The emissions from burning those hydrocarbons have made the weather more extreme and unpredictable, of course, but they’re also reshaping the human landscape. In 2021, a team of international scientists published a report warning that a third of the world’s population, some 3.5 billion people, may be forced to leave their homes over the next 50 years due to the increasingly hot and unstable climate.
Even as it’s become more critical to make room for these new climate refugees, anti-immigrant politics have gone mainstream around the world. Studies have shown that both Republicans and Democrats become more xenophobic after learning about climate migration, while the annual refugee admission cap is now just 7,500 in the U.S., down 85% from its peak of 50,000 during the first Trump administration.
This week, Fox returns with a new documentary, The Welcome Table. In the film, which will be released on HBO, he travels around the globe, visiting communities in decline — places where the physical catastrophes and political climates have converged to make it impossible to continue living. But as he and I discussed in our conversation below, this story is not a tragedy; rather, Fox aims to answer how we can set the table and embrace neighbors who’ve lost their homes. And here’s the good news: It involves a lot of fun.
Our conversation has been lightly edited and condensed.
Reportage on climate migration almost always focuses on the people who are migrating. What struck me about your documentary was its emphasis on the other subject in this relationship — the people and communities who either receive or exclude the refugees. Can you tell me how you arrived at that starting point?
Well, I’ll tell you a funny story. I first started working on this in 2019 because I was so outraged at the policy of child separation. I went down to El Paso — which you see in part of the movie — to investigate issues of the border. I originally thought of the movie as The Border Table, where we were going to put a table on the border for people to come to from both sides, and we were looking for a section of the border that didn’t have a wall.
I quickly realized that the issues around the border were not my wheelhouse — it is its own subject — and I wanted to focus more broadly on the climate. I was doing an event for Bernie Sanders’ 2020 campaign where I was called to go to Columbia, South Carolina, with Nina Turner, Dr. Cornel West, and Bernie to talk about water issues. My flight came in, then Dr. West’s, and it was like 10 at night. We got in a rental car with Heather Gautney, who’s also an amazing activist. There was no place to eat — everything was closed — so we’re sitting in the back of a rental car, myself and Dr. West, and eating McDonald’s, and he’s like, “What are you working on?” And I said, “Well, we’re working on this film called The Border Table.” He goes, “Oh, well, you know, James Baldwin’s last book was called The Welcome Table, but nobody’s ever read it. He never finished it.” And I thought: The Welcome Table, The Welcome Table… That’s interesting, it’s a better title.
Then I was down in New Orleans, and I went to one of my favorite clubs and saw John Boutté. John and I immediately hit it off. He knew my work. He signed one of his records, and lo and behold, I look on the record, and there’s the song: “The Welcome Table.” Immediately I thought, Well, this movie has to start with John Boutté. From the moment I met him, I felt that there was this weird destiny that was happening.
I said, “John, I want you to sing this song to an empty table on the top of the levee, and at the end of the movie, you’re going to sing the song with 1,000 people at a 1,000-foot-long table, and we’re going to show the Welcome Table as this symbol of togetherness and generosity.” Because my question was, What’s the opposite of a wall? What’s stronger than this xenophobia, this racism, this hate, this militarization? Is there anything stronger than that fascist ideology? And I realized that a wall on its side can be a table. The wall is just a metaphor.
So The Welcome Table is essentially a movie about a song. It’s a movie about imagining a future where we can sing and not get tired, where we’re in a beautiful city and have a place at the table.
In a 2023 interview, you described The Welcome Table as a Shakespearian comedy. I’m curious if you still feel that way and can explain it?
All climate movies are tragedies. They’re about the tragic flaw of this civilization, how we’re all doing ourselves in. A comedy is where everybody gets married at the end. That’s what happens at the end of As You Like It, Twelfth Night, The Two Gentlemen of Verona. At the end of Hamlet, there’s just bodies all over the floor.
To me, that table with 1,000 New Orleanians celebrating, waving handkerchiefs, second lining, having the band — it is a sort of marriage, right? I mean, at every wedding in New Orleans, you have one of those bands. To me, it’s a marriage of true minds; it’s a marriage of our communities; and it’s a question of finding our solidarity and our togetherness. The idea is that we have to be bound to each other.
It’s also a hell of a lot more fun.
You note that climate migration would be the greatest mass migration in human history, with a third of the world projected to move in the next 50 years. But the Welcome Table is already pretty crowded at the end of the movie. How do you navigate that tension in climate storytelling — saying both “this is urgent and happening now” but also “it will also get worse”?
My last film on HBO was How to Let Go of the World and Love All the Things Climate Can’t Change [in 2016], in which we trace the path to 2 degrees Celsius and how dangerously close we were at that time. Now things have gotten worse. We include a climate science update midway through The Welcome Table, which is very dire.
But I think this is probably one of the first movies to deal with climate change as it’s happening now. It’s not saying, in the future this will happen, like An Inconvenient Truth. No, this is a fire right now. We’ve never had conditions that are this hot or this dry. This is a giant mega-storm, back-to-back Category 5s flattening the Virgin Islands. This is a famine that’s been going on for seven years because it hasn’t rained in northern Kenya. This is landslides where you have a whole year’s worth of rain drop in 12 hours and the mud buries whole neighborhoods alive.
This is climate change happening to us right now. It’s not predicting a dire future; it’s showing the one that we predicted 10 years ago.
A recurring pattern in the film is that climate migration doesn’t necessarily mean leaving one’s country, but could mean moving a town or neighborhood or two over. Can you talk a little more about how this was still a traumatic upheaval for your subjects, and why you include those stories alongside the more traditional images of refugees on boats or at the southern border?
If you think about New Orleans after Katrina, they lost half their population to elsewhere. And there is no place like New Orleans anywhere on earth. So you are losing something really fundamental to who you are. And, you know, it’s not as if when Paradise, California, burns down, they’re like, “You can set up your place in Chico! We have tons of empty houses and buildings and money and love for you!” No, it’s: Go [expletive] live in your car. So the idea that you’re a climate refugee doesn’t necessarily mean that you’ve had to cross borders. It just means you’ve lost everything.
I wanted to make the point that the Convention on Refugees defines refugees as people who are oppressed because of politics or because of identity or economic hardship or political violence, but it doesn’t include climate change. And it really should. Climate change should be a reason you can declare asylum, because climate change also makes all of those problems way worse.
I was extremely moved by the fact that many of the people extending their hands to refugees in this movie have faced their own forms of rejection and exile, like the members of the queer mutual aid network that comes together organically in Brazil. But how do we get through to the people who are comfortable in their lives? Yes, there are many empathetic, good people, but I also worry there are many scared, small-minded people, too.
I don’t know how to answer that question in general, but I do know from experience that when we were working on fracking issues, it was the moms who were terrified that their children were going to be poisoned by the chemicals in the water and in the air. Those moms were the backbone of our organizing and our audience, and they were fierce in defending their children’s futures. I think what has to be gotten across is that same generational obligation.
One of the things that we cut out of the film, for time, that I’m sad about is: In Paradise, California, and in Boulder, Colorado, where we covered those fires, the rent goes up 300% after the fire. So your $800 apartment is now a $2,400 apartment. But also, nobody should move to those places. They’re going to be contaminated for decades. Everything you have in your house is basically toxic because of the oil industry, and it becomes 10 times more so if you light it on fire, then pour fire retardant sprays on top of it, which are also carcinogens. Then it rains, and all that’s in the water table. There will be cancer clusters in those fire neighborhoods if people move back into them. It’s so serious that I won’t go to one of those places for more than a couple of hours, and I’m wearing a respirator mask.
And we’re not being upfront about that. Get parents involved and understanding that the legacy of their children means that they have to stop using fossil fuels, and we have to dismantle this system of fascism to do it. They are interrelated. Oil is the blood of climate change, but it’s also the blood of this extractive capitalist system.
Do you have any final thoughts you want to leave with our readers?
I would like to see this 1,000-foot-long Welcome Table brought to cities across America and around the world. It’s not just a scene for the movie; it’s a template for our activism. We’ve got to get really good at welcoming people, because either we’re going to be on the move ourselves because we’ve lost our homes due to climate, or we’ll be welcoming those who’ve lost their homes. One way to do this is to practice singing together, hanging out together, and having a good time.
If there’s anything this week in New York City, and my beloved New York Knicks, have gone to show, it’s that collective joy is possible. We don’t need to win a basketball game to have that, though, and that’s what The Welcome Table shows: Collective joy for the sake of collective joy. Coming together to celebrate migration, to celebrate the crisis, to celebrate how, as human beings, we have this ability to sing, dance, and move — boy, that’s a fun time. Our side is more fun. A wall on its side can be a table, and it’s time to envision a different future.
On Michael Bloomberg’s big climate gift, SMRs in Ohio, and the consequences of a “Super El Niño”
Current conditions: Temperatures in the United Kingdom should break 100 degrees Fahrenheit this week • Heavy rain and thunderstorms are forecast to hit the East Coast later today, potentially affecting World Cup matches in Philadelphia and New Jersey • Thousands were left without power after storms in Oklahoma.
In the early hours of Monday morning in Switzerland, mediators from Pakistan and Qatar announced that talks between the United States and Iran had ended after making “encouraging progress.” Now, a “High Level Committee” will attempt to iron out the specifics of a deal over the next 60 days, covering tense issues such as nuclear enrichment, sanctions, and Israeli military actions in southern Lebanon. The statement also said that a “communication line” had been set up “to avoid incidents and miscommunication with the aim of safe passage for commercial vessels through the Strait of Hormuz.”
The agreement followed several days of confusion over the state of the waterway. While Iran declared the strait closed over the weekend in protest over Israeli actions in Lebanon, a U.S. military spokesman told The New York Times, “Iran does not control the Strait of Hormuz. Traffic continues to flow, and U.S. forces are monitoring the situation to ensure this remains the case.” Meanwhile, Iranian officials have said their own exports are receiving waivers from sanctions, and that a U.S. blockade is no longer in effect. “Oil and petrochem exports are waived, blockade lifted, some frozen assets released, and major reconstruction & development plan launched for Iran,” Iran’s foreign minister Seyed Abbas Araghchi posted on X Sunday evening.
Initial results in Colombia’s presidential election showed Abelardo de la Espriella, the right-wing candidate allied with Donald Trump, winning office against his leftist opponent, Ivan Cepeda, an ally of outgoing President Gustavo Petro. While the campaign largely revolved around issues related to drugs and crime, de la Espriella has also pledged to support the country’s fossil fuel industry, including support for fracking and expanding overall oil and gas production. Petro, by contrast, “sought to wean the Andean nation off fossil fuels by halting new drilling licenses and seeking to ban fracking,” Bloomberg reported. Petro’s environmentalist bent chilled outside investment in the oil and gas sector, which is still Colombia’s No. 1 exporting industry.
China’s Commerce Ministry targeted two favored U.S. rare earth companies with export controls on Monday, Bloomberg reported, adding American mineral producers MP Materials and USA Rare Earth to its export control list. The two companies were among 10 added to the list, Chinese state news agency Xinhua reported. “Organizations and individuals from any country or region are prohibited from transferring or providing dual-use items originating in China to the above-mentioned entities. Relevant ongoing export activities shall be immediately halted, according to the statement,” Xinhua said. Earlier this month, the Pentagon added several Chinese companies to its own list of companies known to support the Chinese military. These included tech giants Baidu and Alibaba, as well as the electric vehicle company BYD. This designation comes with restrictions on the companies’ commercial relationships with the Department of Defense.

The two companies have been the recipient of billions of investment and largesse from the federal government as the U.S. seeks to build up a rare earths mining and processing industry that’s no longer reliant on China, which dominates the sector. MP Materials has received a combination of direct investment, financing, and purchase commitments for its neodymium-praseodymium production and output. While the Trump administration has shown little interest in catalyzing the wind and electric vehicle sectors (both of which use neodymium-praseodymium oxide in their electric motors), the defense industry is a major customer of MP Materials’ rare earths products. USA Rare Earth has received over $1 billion in federal investment.
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It’s not just the risk of a West Coast hurricane — the return of the El Niño weather system could portend a “mini-Dust bowl” in the Midwest. AccuWeather forecasters warned over the weekend that there’s a 70% chance already-present El Niño conditions in the Pacific Ocean could develop into what’s known as a “Super El Niño,” characterized by ocean surface temperatures 2 degrees Celsius hotter than average. Though El Niño is notorious for sending extreme rain into the southern U.S., it can also cause drier conditions further north. Combined with the extremity of this year’s projected temperature anomaly, that could lead to a multi-year drought in the Midwest. “The stronger the upcoming El Niño conditions get, the longer it takes for weather patterns to return to their historical average,” AccuWeather senior meteorologist Paul Pastelok explained. Already several Plains and Mountain West states are in “extreme drought,” and the El Niño could set the table for even more dry weather to come.
Michael Bloomberg, founder of financial news service Bloomberg LP and a prolific climate philanthropist, announced a $285 million commitment on Sunday “to help clean energy scale fast enough to power the world’s energy systems,” according to a press release from his charitable organization, Bloomberg Philanthropy. The gift is aimed at accelerating wind and solar deployment both in developed and emerging markets, with the goal that the two technologies should “generate more than half” of electricity in countries responsible for 70% of global emissions. The money will support trade groups for the wind and solar industry, data collection and analysis efforts to demonstrate wind and solar’s capabilities and costs, technical assistance to set up electricity markets in a way that encourages wind and solar deployment, and working with investors and financial institutions to “help unlock private capital for clean energy infrastructure.”
The substantial gift toward two mature technologies stands in contrast to other climate and philanthropic investment approaches (like, say, Bill Gates’) that focus on “breakthrough” technologies that are not currently widely deployed, or may not even exist at all. Bloomberg’s gift comes after Gates closed his main climate giving vehicle’s advocacy and policy shops early last year, and later issued a memo outlining a “strategic pivot” to focus more on global public health and extreme poverty.
Developer Elementl says it will build a new 1.5-gigawatt nuclear plant 100 miles outside Columbus, Ohio. The twist: It’ll be powered by small modular reactors. The proposed plant would features several BWRX-300 SMRs made by GE Vernova Hitachi Nuclear Energy, a design that has also been favored by Ontario Power Generation at its first-on-the-continent SMR facility. Elementl said in a press release Friday that it expects to hear back from PJM Interconnection later this year about interconnection, which would set up the facility to be in service by 2034.
Editor’s note: This article has been updated to correct the location of a potential “mini-Dust Bowl.”
An active Pacific cyclone season plus El Niño-warmed waters could produce a first-of-its-kind West Coast storm.
Among hurricane watchers, “I” is the scariest letter in the alphabet. Since 2001, the ninth named storm of the year in the Atlantic Basin — which usually arrives around the mid-September peak of the season — has historically been the worst of the worst. Ida. Irma. Ivan. Isabel.
This year, there might not be enough storms for “I” ever to become a threat. With just eight to 14 named storms expected, the 2026 Atlantic hurricane season could very well conclude with the formation of Tropical Storm Hanna.
The Eastern Pacific season, however, is a different story. Having already ticked off Amanda, Boris, and Cristina since its season started on May 15, the basin could blow past “I” — also its most retired initial — and go as deep as Xavier, the 22nd name on this year’s list. And the more storms there are in the Eastern Pacific, the more chances there are for a “gray swan” event — in this case, the historically unheard-of but scientifically possible impact or even landfall of a hurricane in California.
“We know there’s a chance, but because of the rarity in the historical record, particularly in the recent 100 years, people lack understanding of this type of event,” Laiyin Zhu, a climate scientist at Western Michigan University and the co-author of a new paper in Nature Climate Change about the increasing risk of cyclone-related impacts on southern California, told me.
Blame El Niño for all the fuss this year. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration formally announced its return last week, and though the atmospheric phenomenon has the effect of suppressing hurricane formation in the Atlantic basin by increasing wind shear and knocking would-be hurricanes off-kilter, the case is different on the left coast. Record and near-record warm waters serve as an engine for the cyclones that form in the Eastern Pacific, a pocket that extends as far as the 140th meridian west, an otherwise obscure latitude that cuts south from Alaska’s Yakutat Bay into the open ocean.
And there is no relief in sight: “With global warming in the next several decades, we are expecting a strong increase of sea surface temperature with the magnitude of about 2.7 degrees Celsius, and this will provide a lot of energy to the tropical cyclones on the East Pacific side of the state,” Zhu said.
Though about as many hurricanes form on average in the Eastern Pacific as in the Atlantic, trade winds push storms in the latter basin westward toward the Caribbean nations, Latin America, and the southeast and eastern United States, sparking excitement, attention, and the odd scandal when they threaten population centers. Storms in the Eastern Pacific follow the same westward trajectory, sometimes bumping into coastal Mexico, though just as often drifting harmlessly out to sea. In rare cases, a steering pattern sends a storm due north toward San Diego or Los Angeles. Each time that’s happened, cold waters off Southern California have starved the cyclone of its warm-water fuel before it can make landfall at full hurricane strength.
In an above-average Eastern Pacific hurricane season such as this one, however, there are more opportunities for a storm to follow that rare track toward California. Additionally, during an El Niño year, Southern California’s protective cold-water barrier becomes slightly warmer, meaning the continent has less protection against tropical storms that take the road less traveled by. To wit: The closest a hurricane has ever come to making landfall on the state was in 1852, an El Niño year. Hurricane Hilary, which prompted the National Hurricane Center to issue its first-ever tropical storm warning for Southern California in 2023, also formed during an El Niño. Though that storm weakened to below the tropical storm threshold before making landfall, its remains dropped more than half a year’s average rain on many parts of the region, killed one person, and racked up some $900 million in flood- and mudslide-related damage.
This year, Southern California will be all the more vulnerable due to the 60% chance of a “super” El Niño forming. “This, on top of the gradually increasing [sea surface temperature] from the climate background, is going to increase the probability of tropical cyclones making landfall, potentially with this rainfall and landslide impact over California,” Zhu said.
Realistically, the danger to California isn’t a Category 5 hurricane making landfall; if a tropical storm were to reach the shores of the western U.S., it’d very likely be weak and unstable. Rather, as Zhu and his colleagues’ research has found, the threat in a high-emissions warming scenario is that the warming Eastern Pacific shortens the return period of a “Hurricane-Hilary-magnitude rainfall” by 50%, from 110 years to 54 years.
While more rain for the drought-plagued Southwest might sound like a good thing, “we are talking about a so-called whiplash event,” Zhu told me. “If we have severe drought followed by a severe rain event, it is going to create big disasters like landslides because the dry soil is not going to absorb the rainfall in a short time efficiently.” The researchers found that all Southern California counties “exhibit growth in areas exposed to landslides from 2000 to 2050,” though the risk is disproportionate; for households earning less than $50,000, landslide risk could triple by the middle of the century compared to wealthy households, where it will increase by less than half. (Wildfires in the region have also made the landscape particularly prone to mudslides since the loss of vegetation disrupts normal water absorption by the soil and makes slopes more unstable after rain.)
There might be a spot of good news, though. Jin-Yi Yu, a professor of earth system science at the University of California, Irvine, told me that while he had not read the Nature Climate Change article, he thinks California might at least be spared a winter deluge of the likes of the 1997-1998 El Niño, which ran the state some $850 million in storm-related damage.
Often a skeptic of “super El Niño” hype, Yu acknowledged that this year appears headed toward the superlative. But as his research has shown, using the historical record to predict El Niño has become increasingly unreliable since the 20th century due to its shifting center and marine heatwaves. So far, the patterns in 2026 look more similar to the 2015-2016 El Niño, which was the strongest on record, but also developed a warm-water pocket near the International Date Line that disrupted the system to the point that winter rainfall in California was actually below average.
But if California dodges both a hurricane and a record-wet winter this year, that makes the state lucky, not invincible. Californians “are not like people from Florida, who are always getting hit by hurricanes and who know how to evacuate and how to build their houses to a certain standard,” Zhu said. Californians are particularly vulnerable to tropical cyclones because they’re so unlikely. Policymakers should be thinking now about zoning changes in landslide-prone areas and home-hardening measures in anticipation of when the “grey swan” event finally arrives.
“I hope this doesn’t happen this year, or for many years, in California,” Zhu said. “But we need to be aware of it.”