Axios Climate Truths: Climate hits home

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Data: NOAA; Map: Thomas Oide and Erin Davis/Axios Visuals

Climate change is often cast as a global issue. But in reality, it's already affecting each of us in our backyards.

Why it matters: The more people see the impact on their own lives, the more likely it is that they'll look for things they can do about it — from the candidates and policies they support to the personal changes they can make. 

The big picture: Whether it's increasingly common "sunny day flooding" in coastal cities like Miami and Charleston, South Carolina, or the growing frequency and severity of heat waves, or wildfires out west and in Appalachia, or beach homes tumbling into the ocean during an ordinary coastal storm — we are already being forced to adapt our lives to global warming.

Meanwhile, as Congress stalls on taking comprehensive action to limit global warming's severity, it is local policymakers — governors, mayors and city council members — who are acting with the most urgency.

As communities try to cut emissions, they're also working to prepare for future global warming, from road-raising projects along the shoreline to city roofs painted white to reflect incoming heat from the sun.

The danger isn't just over our heads. It's sometimes biting our ankles.

Consider, for a moment, the fire ant and its march through North Carolina.

The non-native species with the unforgettable sting was first discovered in Brunswick County, North Carolina, in the farthest southeastern corner of the state along the South Carolina line, in the 1950s, about 20 years after it arrived in the U.S. from South America.

Now 78 of North Carolina's 100 counties are under fire ant quarantine area designations, according to a North Carolina Agriculture report from January. 

The fire ants aren't migrating simply because the temperature is warming farther inland. They also float as colonies around their queen, hitching rides inland on floods from more frequent and intense rainfall events.

Meanwhile, farmers across the country, from Arizona to the northern Plains, are feeling the harsh effects of weather whiplash from drought to flood, and extreme heat to unseasonable cold. These shifts eat into their margins and disrupt the country's food supply, Axios' Torey Van Oot reports.

And golf course superintendents throughout the South were convinced of climate change in the 2000s and 2010s, when they started losing bentgrass greens during late summer. 

Now many courses in the region have made the expensive transition to warm-weather Bermudagrass, which thrives in heat and humidity. 

State of play: Climate change unfolds in the margins day to day until it becomes impossible to avoid. Perhaps one morning you realize the place you live experiences totally different weather conditions than when you first arrived there, or that your community has seen three so-called 100-year floods in the past two years. 

Miami, for example, now sees an average of 75 more 90-degree days each year compared to 1970, according to an analysis from Climate Central, a nonprofit scientific research organization.

Similarly, heavy precipitation events have become more frequent across the country, especially in the Midwest and Northeast. When Climate Central studied rainfall at 150 U.S. weather stations, it found that hourly rainfall intensity has increased since 1970 at 90% of them.

Yes, but: Climate change is hitting some areas harder than others, and it is playing out against the background of environmental racism. 

In the Bay Area, cities are developing strategies to deal with sea level rise. And there's little consistency, as wealthier cities beef up infrastructure faster than ones with lower income.

Miami officials are contemplating a U.S. Army Corps of Engineers proposal to build a 20-foot, $6 billion project that would protect downtown from sea level rise and hurricane-related storm surge flooding, but could harm lower-income areas. 

Climate change has long been an issue of equity. In Princeville, North Carolina, the oldest town in the country incorporated by African-Americans, a levee built in the 1960s was no match for Hurricane Floyd in 1999 or Matthew in 2016, when 450 homes were destroyed.

In Atlanta, city officials and environmental groups are trying to blunt the impact of increasingly severe heat waves on low-income communities by planting trees and helping to make housing more energy-efficient, Axios' Thomas Wheatley reports.

The bottom line: Our communities are already altered by climate change, often in ways we can't see, and local responses to those changes may determine our future as much as sweeping policies from world leaders.

1. Climate is a local issue now

From flooding to heat waves, coastal storms and wildfires, we're adapting our lives to global warming.

Climate truths

Climate Truths

Climate change is often cast as a global issue. But in reality, it&#x27;s already affecting each of us in our backyards.Why it matters: The more people see the impact on their own lives, the more likely it is that they&#x27;ll look for things they can do about it — from the candidates and policies they support to the personal changes they can make.

Ominous forecasts about the impact of climate change serve as the backdrop for the world — led by U.S. lawmakers and companies — to debate big action on the problem, which could upend energy systems and our way of life.

Energy & Environment

Atlanta

Axios Atlanta

People living on low incomes in cities will bear the brunt of climate change's scorching temperatures and urban flooding, widening the vulnerability gap between the rich and the poor.

That reality is presenting a new challenge to cities like Atlanta, where city officials and climate advocates are pushing to make homes more energy-efficient, plant trees and redesign roads and parks to more easily withstand floods. 

“It's important to realize that we're all in the same storm, but we're not all in the same boat," says Na'Taki Osborne Jelks, a Spelman College professor who is co-leading UrbanHeatATL, an initiative to measure the city's hotspots using stationary and mobile sensors on bicycles and cars.

"Every community and every household doesn't have the same capacity to respond to these climate shocks and stresses."

The big picture: Urban areas bake hotter than rural areas because of less tree cover and impervious dark surfaces like roads, parking lots and skyscrapers that radiate heat — features that prevent water from soaking into the ground during storm events.

Climate change is making heat waves more frequent, severe and longer-lasting around the world, including in Georgia.

Communities of color, seniors, and other vulnerable populations often lack access to health care, energy-efficient housing, or savings to afford sudden spikes in energy bills during extreme heat, compounding the vulnerabilities they already face.

Zoom in: Atlanta consistently tops lists of cities with high income inequality and high proportions of low-income households' incomes spent on energy bills. By 2050, the average summer temperature will reach nearly 93°F, which is 4° higher than today's average, according to one study.

Preliminary mapping data from UrbanHeatATL found that low-income neighborhoods close to downtown and communities near interstates experienced hotter temperatures.

Populations that are most vulnerable to higher temperatures exacerbated by climate change live in three predominantly Black neighborhoods in southwest Atlanta where the majority of housing is more than 50 years old, a recent city study found.

The fixes: The city's recently launched WeatheRISE ATL will help homeowners living in low-income neighborhoods pay for energy efficiency improvements like sealing leaky windows, insulating attics, and installing smart thermostats.

The organization Trees Atlanta, which plants more than 7,000 native redbuds, maples and oaks and maintains thousands more every year, is helping 12 metro Atlanta cities and 10 nonprofits plant or conserve 1 million trees by 2030. 

Yes, but: Planting trees, catching stormwater and insulating windows can only go so far. 

Last year, some neighborhoods pushed City Hall to shelve a proposal allowing developers to build more apartments, including affordable units, near MARTA rail stops — a plan that could have helped more people live in the city, in a smaller footprint, and likely without owning a car.

Between the lines: Nationally, residents in low-income neighborhoods and communities of color experience far higher temperatures than people who live in whiter, wealthier areas, a study published last year in the journal Earth's Future found. 

The study found that in areas with higher rates of poverty, temperatures can be as much as 7°F warmer during the summer months when compared with richer neighborhoods.

Details: Rising heat will physically, psychologically and financially tax people who live in substandard housing or can't afford to pay for air conditioning.

Excessive exposure to heat can negatively affect people's kidneys and cardiovascular health and exacerbate diabetes, Stefanie Ebelt of the Rollins School of Public Health told WABE.   

In addition, strong and sudden storm events will overwhelm communities built in low-lying areas and with poor drainage, says Kim Cobb, a professor and climate scientist at Georgia Tech.

The combination of excess water and high temperatures could trigger mold issues in substandard housing, the city's recent study says.

What to watch: Atlanta needs a clear plan and vision from city leaders about how it will mitigate the effects of climate change on low-income communities, says Jelks.

That vision should take a big-picture view on addressing the effects, including emergency measures like energy bill payment assistance and systemic fixes like access to affordable, well-built housing, Jelks said.

"If we're not planning and strategizing and developing implementation plans for that, then we're going to be sorely unprepared for what is to come."

A daily look at the most significant and interesting stories affecting Atlanta. Written by Kristal Dixon and Thomas Wheatley.

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2. Heat waves hit low-income communities hardest

They face scorching temperatures and urban flooding, widening the gap between the rich and the poor.

Illustration of Atlanta skyline and a thermometer.

People living on low incomes in cities will bear the brunt of climate change&#x27;s scorching temperatures and urban flooding, widening the vulnerability gap between the rich and the poor.<ul><li>That reality is presenting a new challenge to cities like Atlanta, where city officials and climate advocates are pushing to make homes more energy-efficient, plant trees and redesign roads and parks to more easily withstand floods. </li></ul>

Chicago

Axios Chicago

Last month, Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot released a new Climate Action Plan for the city with 51 goals to be met — the fourth such plan to be introduced by three Chicago mayors over a little more than a decade. 

Why it matters: In cities like Chicago, when climate goals are rewritten every time there's a change in leadership, continuity and accountability can get complicated, if not lost. 

And this lack of accountability in major cities poses a problem for global climate progress, given that cities generate nearly 75% of the world's CO2 emissions, according to the U.N., mainly through buildings and transportation.   

The backstory: In 2008, Mayor Richard M. Daley released his Climate Action Plan.

In 2015, Mayor Rahm Emanuel created the Sustainable Chicago Action Agenda.

In 2019, Emanuel released the Resilient Chicago plan.

Lightfoot's climate plan came out in May.  

Between the lines: Some new plans watered down old promises, while others strengthened them.

Daley aimed to plant a million trees over 12 years. Lightfoot, in last year's budget address, said she's shooting for just 75,000 over five years.  

Daley's plan aimed to retrofit 50% of commercial and industrial buildings for energy efficiency over 12 years by 2020. Lightfoot's plan aims to retrofit just 20% of industrial buildings over eight years and 20% of commercial buildings over 13 years.

Daley's plan committed to diverting 90% of city landfill waste to recycling or composting by 2020, while Emanuel's 2015 plan simply aimed to "improve access to recycling and improve policies to promote waste reduction." By his 2019 plan, waste diversion goals disappeared altogether.

This year, Lightfoot revived the issue with a goal to divert 90% of residential waste by 2040 and 90% of commercial waste by 2035. 

Daley aimed to "improve energy efficiency" of the city fleet, while Emanuel pledged to transition it to fully electric city buses by 2040. Lightfoot pledges to electrify the city's entire fleet by 2035.  

To avoid climate plan whiplash in the future, Lightfoot's report noted that citizens have urged the city to build in "long-standing accountability structures to withstand political transitions."

But when asked what those might look like, the mayor's office did not offer specifics, simply saying, "We are exploring many options for transparency and are considering a dashboard similar to the recently released dashboard in New York City" that tracks progress on its climate goals.

Yes, but: Municipal leaders can improve chances for continuity by signing on to outside climate agreements that have a better chance of withstanding leadership changes. Before introducing her new action plan, Lightfoot said Chicago would honor commitments to:

Reduce greenhouse gas emissions in Cook and the collar counties by 80% from 2005 levels by 2050, as part of the Metropolitan Mayors Caucus regional plan.

Reduce Chicago's carbon emissions by about 25% from 2005 levels by 2025 as part of Paris agreement commitments signed by Emanuel in 2017. 

Reduce emissions and learn from mayors around the world through the C40 Cities Climate Leadership Group, which Chicago joined under Daley in 2005. 

Power all Chicago buildings with renewable energy by 2035 as part of an Emanuel commitment.

What they're saying: The best way to ensure that a plan will outlast the mayor is to make it a law.

"I certainly welcome strong climate action plans, but the rubber really hits the road when these plans become ordinances with statutory requirements and line items in the budget to accomplish them," says Christine Nannicelli of Sierra Club Illinois, which pushes for such laws. 

She points to the 2012 agreement the Sierra Club, among others, successfully supported to close two coal-fired plants in the city.

The bottom line: New mayors don't have to follow the climate goals of their predecessors, and they often take years to create their own plans.

Until then, citizens and journalists can take it upon themselves to track local progress on plans independently — which is what we're going to do with Lightfoot's plan.

3. Channel surfing for climate plans

Cities can't build up momentum when new mayors keep changing the plans.

Last month, Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot <a class="gtmContentClick" data-vars-link-text="released a new Climate Action Plan" data-vars-click-url="https://www.axios.com/local/chicago/2022/05/06/chicago-launches-climate-action-plan" data-vars-content-id="2f0400d9-534d-4b70-8cf2-a1da7db90551" data-vars-headline="Channel surfing for climate plans" data-vars-event-category="story" data-vars-sub-category="story" data-vars-item="in_content_link" href="https://www.axios.com/local/chicago/2022/05/06/chicago-launches-climate-action-plan" target="_self">released a new Climate Action Plan</a> for the city with 51 goals to be met — the fourth such plan to be introduced by three Chicago mayors over a little more than a decade. Why it matters: In cities like Chicago, when climate goals are rewritten every time there&#x27;s a change in leadership, continuity and accountability can get complicated, if not lost.

The city of San Francisco has imminent plans to shut down nearly 1 mile of its heavily trafficked roadway bordering the Pacific Ocean, due to erosion concerns from rising sea levels.

Why it matters: The proposal, known officially as the Ocean Beach Climate Change Adaptation Project, is the city's first known example of a "managed retreat" and shows how sea level rise is already changing the way San Francisco functions.

The big picture: Water along San Francisco's coastline will likely rise over 1 foot by 2050, a 2018 report from the state Ocean Protection Council predicts. Higher-end scenarios estimate a 2-foot increase or greater. 

As sea levels increase, the risk of damaging storm surge flooding during storms and astronomical high tides escalates. 

In recent years, asphalt sections from a parking lot overlooking San Francisco's Ocean Beach have crumbled and fallen onto the sand below. 

And there's a 14-foot-wide pipe under the threatened roadway — the Great Highway — that carries sewage and wastewater to a nearby treatment facility. If erosion exposes the pipe, it would likely crack and cause a major spill. 

Details: The climate change adaptation project calls for installing a "buried wall" to protect the sewage pipe and reshaping the current bluff to turn the cliffside into a more gradual slope with native vegetation.

The 0.8 mile-stretch — known locally as the "Great Highway Extension" — will turn into a recreation area, complete with a 15-to-20-foot-wide trail for pedestrians and cyclists.

There will also be a new stairway down to the beach, a new parking lot, the city's first solar-powered bathroom, and a climate-inspired art installation. 

In total, the San Francisco Public Utilities Commission estimates the project will cost $200 million. 

What they’re saying: "I think I'm most excited about how this project will significantly improve public access to the coastline and restore the natural habitat," city supervisor Gordon Mar tells Axios. 

Yes, but: Some residents have raised concerns that closing the stretch to cars will increase traffic and noise on nearby streets.

There's also the bank swallow to consider, a threatened bird species in California that could lose up to 500 feet of habitat from the proposed changes. 

What to watch: Closing the Great Highway Extension to car traffic and reimagining the space as a recreation area are two of the first steps in a broader initiative known as the Ocean Beach Master Plan. 

In the works for over a decade, the plan makes recommendations for the entire, 3.5-mile Great Highway, including restoring the nearby dunes along the middle stretch of the beach. 

The highway is just one example of what's at risk from sea level rise in San Francisco Bay. Studies have shown that tech company headquarters are vulnerable to flooding, and steps are being taken to bolster the protection of San Francisco International Airport, which juts out into the Bay. 

What's next: The adaptation project is still under environmental review by the city's Planning Commission. John Coté, a spokesperson for the SFPUC, tells Axios he's hopeful that it will be approved by early 2023 and that construction will begin in late 2023 to early 2024. Coté estimates an end of 2027 completion date. 

Still, Mar says that "like a lot of major infrastructure projects … I wouldn't be surprised if it was delayed."

4. San Francisco's "managed retreat" from rising sea levels

The "managed retreat" shows how a rising sea is already changing the way San Francisco functions.

Illustration of a road closed sign and a highway along a shoreline surrounded by shapes, rulers, and grids

The city of San Francisco has imminent plans to shut down nearly 1 mile of its heavily trafficked roadway bordering the Pacific Ocean, due to erosion concerns from rising sea levels.Why it matters: The proposal, known officially as the <a class="gtmContentClick" data-vars-link-text="Ocean Beach Climate Change Adaptation Project" data-vars-click-url="https://sfrecpark.org/1172/Ocean-Beach-Climate-Adaptation-Project" data-vars-content-id="c603d4e5-cbd9-4aea-bdbd-5ae5baa176a9" data-vars-headline="San Francisco&#x27;s &quot;managed retreat&quot; from rising sea levels" data-vars-event-category="story" data-vars-sub-category="story" data-vars-item="in_content_link" href="https://sfrecpark.org/1172/Ocean-Beach-Climate-Adaptation-Project" target="_blank">Ocean Beach Climate Change Adaptation Project</a>, is the city&#x27;s first known example of a &quot;<a class="gtmContentClick" data-vars-link-text="managed retreat" data-vars-click-url="https://www.e-education.psu.edu/earth107/node/701#:~:text=Managed%20retreat%20or%20managed%20realignment%20is%20a%20coastal%20management%20strategy,a%20new%20line%20of%20defense." data-vars-content-id="c603d4e5-cbd9-4aea-bdbd-5ae5baa176a9" data-vars-headline="San Francisco&#x27;s &quot;managed retreat&quot; from rising sea levels" data-vars-event-category="story" data-vars-sub-category="story" data-vars-item="in_content_link" href="https://www.e-education.psu.edu/earth107/node/701#:~:text=Managed%20retreat%20or%20managed%20realignment%20is%20a%20coastal%20management%20strategy,a%20new%20line%20of%20defense." target="_blank">managed retreat</a>&quot; and shows how sea level rise is already changing the way San Francisco functions.

Phoenix

Axios Phoenix

Arizona and the other six Western states that are part of the Colorado River Basin are in the midst of a 22-year "megadrought" that ranks as the region's worst in 1,200 years.

Why it matters: If the situation worsens, restrictions on outdoor residential water use could be only a couple of years away, Arizona Department of Water Resources director Tom Buschatzke tells Axios.

The drought, driven in large part by human-caused climate change, has already caused water cutbacks for central Arizona farmers and new requirements for homebuilding in Phoenix's fast-growing southeastern suburbs.

There's no end in sight to the drought, which experts said should be considered the new normal due to climate change.

Much of the state is dependent on water for agricultural and residential use from the Central Arizona Project, a canal that pipes in water from the drought-depleted Colorado River.

How it works: Under a 2019 Drought Contingency Plan, the Colorado River Basin states — which also include parts of California, Colorado, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, and Wyoming — are currently in a Tier 1 shortage, which triggers an initial round of cuts to Colorado River water distribution when Lake Mead drops below 1,075 feet.

Farmers between Phoenix and Tucson are already being hit by the initial cuts. They're receiving less water from the Central Arizona Project, forcing them to instead rely more on finite supplies of groundwater.

Non-CAP farmers are also feeling the pinch. Nancy Caywood, co-owner of an alfalfa, barley and cotton farm southeast of Phoenix, said her irrigation district has cut her water allocations and raised her rates.

Caywood Farms barely has enough water to grow any cotton, and only got two cuttings of alfalfa last year, as opposed to the eight to 10 cuttings it gets in better times.

"Optimism carries us through. You cling on to every cloud that passes by. You hang on to every forecast that says there might be rain. You take it [seriously]," Caywood tells Axios.

The water shortage tiers for the lower basin states are measured by the water levels in Arizona and Nevada's Lake Mead, which have dropped to a record low of 1,048 feet and are expected to continue falling.

What's next: Experts say Arizona is likely to face a Tier 2a shortage or possibly a Tier 2b shortage sometime next year — meaning Phoenix, other central Arizona cities and several tribes would lose CAP water.

By 2024, the state could face a Tier 3 shortage — which would lead to even deeper cuts to cities, tribes and private water companies. 

That doesn't mean residents would have to cut their water use at home just yet. Phoenix and most other cities that rely on CAP have stores of groundwater and other resources they can use to offset Tier 3 cuts, said Sarah Porter, director of the Kyl Center for Water Policy at Arizona State University’s Morrison Institute for Public Policy.

Buschatzke said restrictions on outdoor water use for things like lawns and landscaping would probably be triggered by a Tier 3 shortage or more dire circumstances than that.

Each city or other entity that would receive less water under the different tiers would determine for itself how to cope with the cutbacks. Phoenix, several of its suburbs, and Tucson have already initiated the first phases of their drought management plans.

Yes, but: Things are likely to get worse after Tier 3.

Buschatzke said the state is likely decades away from restrictions on indoor water use — but it's on a "very serious trajectory" that could end up there.

CAP executive director Ted Cooke warned that Arizonans need to plan for what happens and what kinds of new cutbacks and restrictions they'll enact if the water situation gets worse after a Tier 3 shortage is declared.

"We're not just going to sit back and say, 'This is as bad as it gets,' because it could get worse," Cooke tells Axios. "And we’re going to have to do more."

5. "Megadrought" threatens Arizona water cutbacks

Arizona and six other Western states are dealing with the region's worst drought in 1,200 years.

Photo illustration of a dried out section of Lake Mead with a cotton plant and abstract shapes.

Photo illustration: Shoshana Gordon/Axios. Photo: Mario Tama/Getty Images

Arizona and the other six Western states that are part of the Colorado River Basin are in the midst of a 22-year &quot;<a class="gtmContentClick" data-vars-link-text="megadrought" data-vars-click-url="https://www.axios.com/2022/02/14/southwest-megadrought-driest-1200-years" data-vars-content-id="4ac6a6e7-dedb-44a7-923a-77155432a1cb" data-vars-headline="&quot;Megadrought&quot; threatens Arizona water cutbacks" data-vars-event-category="story" data-vars-sub-category="story" data-vars-item="in_content_link" href="https://www.axios.com/2022/02/14/southwest-megadrought-driest-1200-years" target="_self">megadrought</a>&quot; that ranks as the region&#x27;s worst in 1,200 years.Why it matters: If the situation worsens, restrictions on outdoor residential water use could be only a couple of years away, Arizona Department of Water Resources director Tom Buschatzke tells Axios.

Twin Cities

Axios Twin Cities

Farmers across the U.S. are turning to new tools, tactics and even crops in an effort to weather the impacts of a changing climate.

The big picture: Extreme weather events are wreaking havoc on U.S. farmers, squeezing an industry already battling Mother Earth's normal whims and slim margins.

Climbing temperatures caused losses totaling $27 billion in insurance payouts between 1991 and 2017, per one study.

What they're doing: Anne Schwagerl, who grows organic grains and raises hogs on 400 acres in western Minnesota, plants cover crops when the harvest is done to help protect her soil from erosion and weather-related damages.

In 2020, she began planting newer, winter-friendly grains, such as Kernza and Winter Camelina.

Those additions provide a new revenue stream in the off-season on land that would otherwise be barren and help "spread out the risk that we take every day by farming in a changing climate," she said.

Between the lines: Both cover crops and grains such as Kernza may help mitigate climate change overall by capturing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. 

Diversifying crops is one of several farming shifts producing dividends for farmers adjusting to a changing climate, Jeffrey S. Strock, a professor and soil scientist at the University of Minnesota's Southwest Research and Outreach Center, tells Axios.

A switch to drought-resistant — or, in some cases, water-tolerant — seeds, less frequent tilling to protect the soil and "precision technology" that helps farmers grow more efficiently are also showing promise. 

The backstory: Recent growing seasons have been battered by historic droughts, floods, wildfires and sudden shifts in weather patterns.

This year has already brought parched fields in Arizona and California and a spring too cold and wet to plant in the northern Plains. Some regions have experienced both back-to-back.

"Whiplash, that's the best way I can describe it," said Schwagerl, whose farm went from a 30-year drought in 2021 to the latest planting season in memory this year. 

"Going from one extreme to the other feels like a pendulum is swinging. And you're just riding this roller coaster."

How it's going: These changes are largely focused on long-term sustainability. But Schwagerl, who serves as vice president of the Minnesota Farmers Union, says cover crops proved their worth "pretty darn quickly." Within a year of planting, the soil "looks better and we get a little bump in our yield" for her regular grains.

The winter grains, meanwhile, are producing results with less labor and maintenance than summer crops.

A new agricultural cooperative Schwagerl joined to help market and sell Kernza has already found buyers in consumer packaged goods companies, including General Mills, and breweries and distilleries. 

Yes, but: These changes aren't without risk, or easy to make. Decisions about what to plant — and how — need to be made months in advance. New equipment and technology are huge financial outlays, with some machines costing upwards of $750,000. A bad year can make investing in those shifts even more daunting. 

"There's very little flexibility to be able to adjust to potential change that's out there," Strock said.

Plus, while the market is growing for Kernza and other grains, the long-term outlook isn't certain. General Mills had to scale back plans to debut a new cereal in 2019 after a failed season.

And crop insurance won't always cover the new varieties, meaning farmers must take on even more risk.

The bottom line: Climate change-related uncertainty is making risk mitigation and long-term planning for the future even more important for farmers. 

"We're not always just trying to manage and influence them for the current growing season," Strock said. "We're trying to influence their thinking out two years, three years, five years." 

6. Farmers' new fixes

They're turning to new tools, tactics and even crops.

Illustration of a combine harvester, wheat and abstract shapes.

Farmers across the U.S. are turning to new tools, tactics and even crops in an effort to weather the impacts of a changing climate.The big picture: Extreme weather events are wreaking havoc on U.S. farmers, squeezing an industry already battling Mother Earth&#x27;s normal whims and slim margins.