Maui on fire, and the climate that underpinned it

August 15, 2023   Issue #604

Personal Stuff

Because I’m a person

Last week, a huge climate-change-amplified wildfire tore through the Hawaiian island Maui. Dry conditions and high winds made the area ripe for fire, and something as yet unknown ignited it.

As I write this around 100 people are confirmed dead from the fire, making it the deadliest US wildfire in a century. It swept through so rapidly that most people had no warning. The stories are harrowing and heartbreaking.

My wife and I went to Maui not too long ago, in large part to look around the area and see if it was a good location for one of our Science Getaways vacations (note: our website is currently offline). We do site visits to various places to figure out how best to host these events; we went to the Big Island years ago and wanted to go to Hawai’i again but to a different island.

We spent several days there, enjoying the incredible beauty and wonderful people of the island. You may recall that back in July, in issue 587, I wrote about the Maui Ku’ia chocolate factory, which was 100% powered by solar energy and gave the profits on their fantastic chocolates to local charities. The maps I’ve seen don’t show it being destroyed, but the fire was right at their doorstep, so I can’t be sure.

We also spent a day in the town of Lahaina, walking along the main drive and taking a short boat ride around the bay. The shoreside region of Lahaina was directly hit by the fires, and is now largely destroyed. Gone.

Reading the news, I have to wonder about the people we met there. The waiter at the seafood restaurant that had a high rating online, who brought us our food, and then brought out more food when a part of our order wasn’t ready initially. The woman who greeted us in the gift shop as I looked over the aloha shirts. The smiling, jocular man who sold my wife a floppy sun hat as he wore a silly hat himself, and tried to get me to buy one even when I had my cowboy hat on. The woman who sold us chocolate at Ku’ia.

Are they alive? Are their families OK? It’s a certainty their businesses are destroyed, either directly or by what will be the long-term impact of the fires. Even if they survived, their lives will be in ashes.

As I pondered this, another thought hit me. In the center of town is an immense banyan tree. These bizarre trees start out by growing in the crown of another tree, then send roots downward until they hit the ground. Eventually the roots form a series of pseudotrunks as the tree spreads out. The tree in Lahaina is the town’s pride and joy, tended and cared for by the residents, and it’s huge, covering nearly an acre of land. Being inside the perimeter is like being in a forest, but made of a single tree.

Marcella and I sat under the tree when we were there, talking to each other and enjoying the shade it provided, and when we split up for a few minutes to go to two different shops we met back there since it’s such an incredible and beautiful landmark.

The fire heavily scorched the tree. It’s still standing, but from what I’ve read at least one expert doesn’t expect it to survive. The tree was planted in 1873; this year was its 150th birthday.

It’s a tree, not a human, but its history is emblematic of Lahaina. Its destruction has affected me more profoundly than I would have expected.

What caused this fire? Climate change, and (to an extent) colonialism. Emily Atkin has details on her Heated blog, Molly Wood wrote on this as well, and an article at Wired magazine also spells it out. I’ve written about climate-change-induced wildfires many times, including when we nearly had to evacuate our home in Colorado as a fire approached. We deny this obvious and incredibly dangerous climate connection at our own peril. Maui stands as another tragic consequence of it.

This news hangs heavily on me. It’s not hard to keep distant disasters at arm’s length emotionally, especially if you’ve never been to the places affected. The people become abstract, the locations just names, the specifics rendered vague.

But… every disaster is personal. Deeply so. Being reminded of this is a terrible thing, even if you’re not directly impacted. The other day, I texted a friend of mine who has also been to Lahaina, and who excitedly helped my wife and me find places to visit before we traveled there. She had much the same thoughts on the fire as I did, including eerily mirroring my specific ruminations over the people I had met and amazing things I had seen. Like me, she was horror-stricken and having a hard time processing the news.

Every disaster is personal.

I take this one personally, and I take climate change personally, too. It may have been a huge driver behind this disaster, but that doesn’t mean we are helpless. Climatologist Katharine Hayhoe has been writing consistently on how there is still time, still hope. Her latest newsletter issue reiterates that. I hold onto that thought, repeat it when I can, and urge you to do what you can to help, including voting for candidates who accept the reality of climate change and vow to do something about it. This wildfire, as have the ones in Canada and the those we increasingly see in the US, have political ramifications, and that can only become more obvious the more some politicians deny the connection.

We do have some power, and we must use it, or else news like this will become very personal for everyone indeed.

If you want to help, don’t go to the island—they are overwhelmed already and hotels are being used for displaced locals. Here’s a page with lists of organizations who could use donations. Another good group is the Hawai’i People’s Fund. If you know of more (please make sure they’re confirmed) feel free to leave a link in the comments below, which I’ve opened to everyone.

Et alia

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