Such fires can't be entirely separated from Californians' contributions to climate change, and preventing them should be central to the state's environmental policy as well as public safety.
Major scientific societies will publish research for the stalled National Climate Assessment after the Trump administration removed the project’s authors.
The American Geophysical Union and the American Meteorological Society will allow researchers to publish chapters originally prepared for the National Climate Assessment (NCA6), which was disrupted when the Trump administration dismissed its scientific teams.
The National Climate Assessment, mandated by Congress, reviews climate science and informs policy responses; the sixth edition was expected in 2028 but is now uncertain due to funding and staffing cuts.
Scientists say continuing this work independently helps preserve momentum and ensures valuable climate data and analysis remain available to policymakers and the public.
Key quote:
“This collaboration provides a critical pathway for a wide range of researchers to come together and provide the science needed to support the global enterprise pursuing solutions to climate change.”
— Brandon Jones, president of the American Geophysical Union and a program director with the National Science Foundation
Why this matters:
The National Climate Assessment offers a vital, government-backed synthesis of how climate change affects the United States and what steps might mitigate its worst outcomes. Federal dismissal of its authors jeopardizes not only the next report’s publication but also the continuity and public credibility of climate science. By stepping in, scientific societies aim to prevent years of research from vanishing and maintain the flow of information crucial to decision-makers and the public. Climate assessments also inform infrastructure planning, public health strategies, and environmental protections. When political forces impede or halt this work, the consequences ripple outward, potentially leaving communities less prepared for the accelerating impacts of climate change.
A growing network of U.S. climate disaster survivors is turning personal loss into collective advocacy, demanding action as extreme weather intensifies and federal aid diminishes.
Survivors of disasters like the Marshall Fire, Hurricane Harvey, and the Maui wildfires are organizing to advocate for climate policy reforms and improved disaster response.
The nonprofit Extreme Weather Survivors connects victims nationwide, providing peer support, mental health resources, and training in media and legislative advocacy.
As the Trump administration scales back climate funding and disaster aid, survivors are increasingly stepping into political activism to push for resilience measures and fossil fuel accountability.
Key quote:
“They are among the first of a growing number of Americans to understand what it means that climate change is here, it’s impacting people, and it’s going to get more severe.”
— Chris Kocher, Extreme Weather Survivors
Why this matters:
As extreme weather disasters multiply, they not only destroy homes and lives but also expose cracks in disaster preparedness, federal aid, and insurance systems. Survivors, often left to navigate rebuilding alone, are stepping into a void left by political inaction. Their lived experiences, once isolated traumas, are becoming the backbone of a growing movement demanding accountability from policymakers and polluters. This grassroots activism reflects a significant shift: Those most directly impacted by climate change are emerging as powerful voices in the national climate conversation.The stories they tell bridge the gap between abstract climate models and the human reality of a hotter, more volatile planet.
Wildfires have increasingly devastated Indigenous reservations, where underfunded and overstretched tribal firefighting programs struggle to keep pace with mounting threats.
The Colville Reservation and other tribal lands face severe wildfire threats made worse by chronic underfunding and outdated federal support formulas that haven’t been revised in over two decades.
Tribal firefighting programs receive less than half the per-acre funding of the U.S. Forest Service, forcing them to operate with outdated equipment, shrinking staff, and limited preparedness budgets.
Despite temporary pay increases secured in recent years, many tribal departments remain ill-equipped as climate change drives larger, more frequent fires, leaving residents and volunteers to fill dangerous gaps.
Key quote:
“We’ve been saying the same thing for 30 years now. What makes you think that they’re going to listen to us now?”
— Jim Durglo, fire technical specialist, Intertribal Timber Council
Why this matters:
Wildfires are becoming more intense and frequent, fueled by climate change and historical land mismanagement. Tribal lands, often located in fire-prone regions with rich biodiversity and cultural significance, are particularly vulnerable. Yet, firefighting resources for these communities lag far behind those for other federal lands, deepening environmental injustice. This disparity not only threatens the safety of Indigenous families but also endangers critical ecosystems and sacred sites. As federal agencies struggle to meet rising fire risks, many tribes are left to fend for themselves with outdated equipment, diminished crews, and precarious budgets. Volunteers and residents often step into the breach, risking their lives to protect homes and forests.
After federal agencies declined to test soil for toxic substances following the devastating Eaton and Palisades fires, Los Angeles Times reporters conducted independent testing and found alarming levels of contamination on properties across Los Angeles County.
Soil testing revealed hazardous levels of arsenic, lead, and mercury on multiple properties previously cleared by federal disaster crews, with some sites exceeding California’s residential safety standards by more than three times.
The Federal Emergency Management Agency and the Army Corps of Engineers removed debris and scraped topsoil but did not conduct soil sampling, leaving thousands of homeowners unaware of possible contamination.
Health risks from the metals include neurological damage in children, cancer, and respiratory and kidney harm, with experts warning that homeowners now bear the burden of costly testing and remediation.
Key quote:
“Without effective hazard communication, you don’t give people the option to make good choices. It’s beyond wrong. It’s immoral.”
— Jane Williams, executive director of California Communities Against Toxics
Why this matters:
Soil contamination after wildfires is a growing public health and environmental concern, especially as climate change intensifies the frequency and severity of these disasters. Toxic substances like lead, arsenic, and mercury can remain in soil long after fires, posing risks not only to current residents but also to future generations who may unknowingly be exposed. The legacy of older construction materials — such as lead-based paint and arsenic-treated wood — compounds the danger.
The absence of mandatory post-fire soil testing places the onus on homeowners to detect and address contamination, often at great personal expense. This privatization of environmental health responsibilities reflects broader patterns of environmental injustice, where lower-income and underinsured residents are left to face disproportionate health risks. As more wildfires consume older housing stock across California and the nation, unchecked soil pollution could quietly undermine recovery efforts and long-term community health.
As Republicans in Congress battle over the future of clean energy tax credits, rural Alaskan communities like Noatak fear losing critical financial lifelines that help power their homes and reduce sky-high energy bills.
Noatak, Alaska, relies on costly diesel flown in twice a month, leading to some of the nation’s highest electricity prices, often exceeding $250 monthly for small homes.
Clean energy tax credits from the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act allowed the village to build a small solar farm and plan for expansion, but a Republican push to repeal these credits now threatens such projects.
Senator Lisa Murkowski and other Republicans oppose the repeal, citing job risks and uncertainty for energy projects critical to rural, fuel-dependent areas like Noatak.
Key quote:
“A wholesale repeal, or the termination of certain individual credits, would create uncertainty, jeopardizing long-term project planning and job creation in the energy sector.”
— Lisa Murkowski, Republican senator from Alaska
Why this matters:
Energy insecurity is a pressing issue for rural Alaskan communities, where extreme weather, isolation, and a heavy reliance on costly diesel create a perfect storm of financial and environmental stress. While most Americans pay moderate utility rates, residents of villages like Noatak face monthly bills that can soar above $1,000, especially during the brutally cold winters when temperatures plunge below -30 degrees. Clean energy solutions, including solar and wind, offer a path toward reducing these burdens. However, political battles in Washington over repealing clean energy tax credits risk halting or reversing progress. Without federal support, many remote communities may be forced to continue relying on polluting and increasingly unaffordable fossil fuels.
An escalating political and legal battle threatens Louisiana’s $3 billion Mid-Barataria Sediment Diversion project, as allegations emerge that state officials concealed a critical environmental study.
Louisiana Governor Jeff Landry accused former Gov. John Bel Edwards’ administration of withholding a study showing the project would produce significantly less land than earlier estimates, prompting the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to suspend its permit.
The 2022 confidential memo revealed that state attorneys considered potential federal charges and warned the Corps could revoke the permit if it discovered the withheld report, which ultimately occurred last month.
Conservationists argue the controversy is politically motivated, while fishing industry leaders welcome the halt, fearing the project’s impact on shrimp and oyster harvesting.
Key quote:
“They hid the bad stuff and only showed the (Corps) the version they liked. Science is easy when you just delete the inconvenient parts!”
— Gov. Jeff Landry, on the social media platform X
Why this matters:
Louisiana’s wetlands are disappearing at an alarming rate, losing land equivalent to a football field nearly every hour. Projects like the Mid-Barataria Sediment Diversion aim to reverse this by redirecting sediment-laden river water to rebuild marshes, a critical defense against hurricanes and rising seas. Yet such efforts come with complex trade-offs: While designed to combat climate-driven coastal erosion, they can disrupt local ecosystems and industries, especially fishing and oyster harvesting that sustain communities and cultural traditions. The current controversy underscores not only the environmental and engineering challenges of such large-scale interventions but also the political and legal complexities that can derail them.
More than 9,000 satellites currently orbit Earth, with projections estimating over 60,000 by 2040. Most satellites are retired by burning up in the atmosphere, releasing pollutants.
Researchers modeled the release of 10,000 tonnes of aluminium oxide annually by 2040 from satellite re-entries, predicting temperature changes up to 1.5C in the middle and upper atmosphere, reduced wind speeds, and ozone depletion.
Additional metals like titanium, lithium, iron, and copper will also be released during satellite re-entries, but their environmental effects remain unstudied.
Why this matters:
The rapid increase in satellite deployment, fueled by expanding communications, navigation, and Earth-monitoring demands, brings unseen environmental costs. As these satellites age out and burn up during re-entry, they release aerosolized metals like aluminium oxide into the upper atmosphere — a region critical for regulating climate and protecting life through the ozone layer. Scientists now warn that by 2040, these emissions could alter atmospheric temperatures, slow wind patterns, and stall the ongoing recovery of the ozone hole, which shields Earth from harmful ultraviolet radiation.
