The Human Race: Too Stupid to Survive

by Sharon Kayne

I used to tell myself that humanity would get its act together and make major changes before global climate destruction wiped us off the face of the beleaguered Earth. But now, not only do I believe that we won’t make any significant changes until it’s entirely too late, but I’m thinking we don’t actually deserve to survive. Because, my god, we are a stupid species.

I came to this conclusion after a short trip to Phoenix. Yes, I voluntarily went to Phoenix in August, but only because I had a funeral to attend. Otherwise, I would never venture into the “Valley of the Sun” at a time when the sun will literally kill you given the opportunity.

I actually grew up in the Phoenix area but, as soon as I was able, I made my escape. I still have family there, though, and I’ve no idea why the hell they stay. Interestingly, Phoenix is a perfect microcosm of climate change, and one can hardly look at the city’s recent history and claim that the warming of the earth is not due to the activity of stupid humans. This is not to say that back in the ’60s, when I was forced to make Phoenix my home by being born there, it was not already hotter than hades. It was. But it was still close enough to its natural state that it cooled off at night, as deserts across the world are wont to do. No more.

According to NOAA, Phoenix’s average daily heat has increased by 3.6° F since 1983. The overnight temps are a whopping 4.4° F higher. Or 2° and 2.4° Celsius, respectively. Interestingly, 1.5° C was the deal hammered out at the Paris Climate Agreement—the cap we’re supposed to keep on the global temperature rise. So, when it comes to global warming, Phoenix is leading the charge—pulling more warming weight than some small countries. And in just four short decades! Way to go!

How has one little city changed so drastically in such a short span of time? Easy: explosive population growth. More people means more miles of roads and sidewalks made of asphalt and concrete, and more buildings of steel and glass. All of which absorb the heat of the summer sun and hold it until… well, I was going to write ‘nightfall,’ but the truth is it now holds the heat until December. It may well hold that heat until hell freezes over, which if Phoenix is any indication, will be never.

That last summer I lived in Phoenix (which was 1990) was the first time the temperature hit 120° F. As I was moving away, I wondered why everyone else wasn’t leaving too. Instead, people kept moving there, and they kept pouring more asphalt and concrete. The all-time high has since hit 123° F. These days, Phoenicians are lucky if the overnight low dips down into the nippy 90s. It’s estimated that Phoenix may become uninhabitable in as few as 20 years. But it won’t be just because of the heat. The city will also run out of water.

The original inhabitants of the Phoenix valley, the Hohokam, deserted this desert in 1500 CE, likely due to a prolonged drought. Because people cannot live without water. That makes living in a desert problematic. So how do Phoenicians deal with this conundrum? One would assume that water is revered. Carefully conserved. Never wasted.

One would be wrong.

Some parts of the Phoenix metro area—the parts where the wealthy, white people live—have an amazing number of greenbelts. And I’m not just talking golf courses (although there are plenty of those). Driving through Sun Lakes, I saw more carefully manicured grass than one expects to see in Scotland. This is because lots of the people who are drawn to Phoenix to escape the midwestern winters don’t actually want to live in a desert. So, they work really hard to turn the desert into a browner version of the Midwest by planting lots of trees and grasses, and building lots and lots of swimming pools, man-made lakes, waterfalls, and fountains. Because what’s a desert without some pretty greenbelts and water features? (That is, of course, a rhetorical question. A desert without those features is… well, a freaking desert! You don’t like it? Sit in the slim shade of a saguaro and shut up!)

That propensity to add water features all over a desert is bad enough. But while I was there, I happened to see—not once, but twice—sprinkler systems watering the grass in the afternoon. Now, anyone with half a brain knows that if you’re going to force grass to grow someplace it would never be stupid enough to grow on its own, you water it at night. That way, you avoid the worst of the evaporation, which allows your thirsty grass to get the maximum amount of the water you’re wasting on it. Running your automatic sprinkler system in the middle of the day is akin to saying, “Fuck water! I don’t care that it’s a finite resource. You think I fear death from dehydration? Bring it on, bro!”

“Stupid” is an overly kind word for the idiots who’re running those sprinklers. And heat stroke is too nice a death for them.

And that, I’ve decided, is why humans deserve all of the havoc the planet’s screwed-up weather systems will throw at us over the next century (or however long it takes until the entire planet is uninhabitable for us). Before my husband and I packed up our hybrid car and drove to Phoenix, I thought the most depressing thing about going there was the funeral I was attending. But I was wrong.

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Buy my historical romances, This Restless Sea, The Green Silk Gown, and Variations on a Romance, at Amazon.