Boykoff: 27 years separate them, yet climate connections persist

This past week, Hurricane Melissa devastated Jamaica, Cuba, the Cayman Islands, Haiti and other parts of the Caribbean Basin. It came on land this past Tuesday in western Jamaica as a Category 5 storm. This is the top of the hurricane scale, noted by sustained wind speeds of 157 mph or more.

This storm has come just over 27 years since a Category 5 hurricane named Mitch tore through Central America. I was living and working in agriculture with the U.S. Peace Corps in Honduras at the time, downstream from the Choluteca River that gutted the capital city of Tegucigalpa. Despite maximum sustained winds of 180 mph, extensive flooding and landslides were responsible for most of the destruction: millions throughout the region were left homeless, and estimates of 12,000-18,000 people lost their lives. When the storm had passed, this October hurricane was found to be the strongest and most destructive hurricane in the Western Hemisphere in the last two centuries.

Each was the thirteenth named storm of the respective hurricane season, and each wrought devastation across the regions where it traversed.

As Hurricane Mitch passed through the south of Honduras, I traveled by foot with a rescue team of community members to the Choluteca River to help evacuate families whose homes were being swept away in front of our eyes. That day in 1998, I contemplated a nexus of bio-physical forces and human influences that contributed to the catastrophe, as well as the differentiated impacts of the storm on vulnerable communities and individuals. I recognized this profoundly moving tragedy as a poignant manifestation of our vital challenge to maintain the integrity, diversity and resilience of existing ecological systems upon which human societies depend.

Scientists at that time linked Mitch’s intense power to human-induced climate change. This sharpened interest in the importance of better understanding the complex social and political processes that shape risks and vulnerabilities at the forefront of climate-related impacts.

Some immigrants from Central America to the U.S. over the past 27 years were recognized as “orphans of Mitch,” seeking stability and security here in the wake of this tragedy. Hondurans, for example, were granted Temporary Protected Status (TPS) by the Clinton Administration beginning January 1999. The TPS designation was extended several times over the last decades to acknowledge and account for the ongoing challenges that were faced in Honduras and neighboring countries. And just over a month ago, this TPS status was revoked by the Trump Administration and the Department of Homeland Security. Effectively, Hondurans with TPS status have lost their U.S. work authorization and are no longer protected from deportation.

Also in these subsequent years, our scientific understanding of the links between extreme events (like hurricanes) and climate change has grown stronger and more certain. The United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (UN IPCC) assessment reports have documented how our attribution capabilities — determining how human-caused climate change influences the intensity and likelihood of specific weather events — have matured and improved. UN IPCC reports (disclosure: I was a contributing author to the 2022 assessment) have provided insights for policy decision-makers, organizations, institutions and individuals to then make informed assessments of risk and vulnerabilities.

Yet, in the last decades, issues associated with climate change have become more politicized. Amid these trends, those of us who have waded into these choppy waters of climate discussions have often found turbulent, polarized and partisan exchanges. Too often, many of us sense that the most viable alternative to avoid these rough waters is to stay in the proverbial shallows and to remain silent. Over time, these choices have contributed to patterns of “climate silence” where we less frequently engage in these discussions with friends, family, neighbors and co-workers. This has also contributed to policy paralysis, serving entrenched status quo carbon-based activities and interests.

Hurricane Melissa — with rapid intensification, intense rainfall, slow movement and gradual dissipation — provides another terrible example of how climate change threatens lives and livelihoods in the 21st century through communication and power outages, community isolation, infrastructure damage and loss of cultural heritage, as well as property and lives. While 27 years separate Mitch and Melissa, persistent connections to climate change demand our attention and action.

This is a biweekly sustainability and environment column authored by Max Boykoff. Max is a faculty member at the University of Colorado Boulder, though the views expressed here are based upon his scholarly expertise and research/creative experience as well as personal views and should not be considered the university’s official position on any specific issue.

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