Billings Climate Week

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Billings Climate Week Billings Climate Week is Sept. 7-15! We are hosting educational events on the climate crisis.

Free public event today--come join us.
09/13/2026

Free public event today--come join us.

08/26/2026

Cape Town, South Africa came within 90 days of becoming the first major city in the modern world to run out of water. "Day Zero" — the day on which the city's taps would be turned off and residents would queue at collection points for a daily ration of 25 liters — was projected for April 2018 after three consecutive years of severe drought reduced the city's six major reservoirs to approximately 13% of capacity. The city of 4 million people implemented the most aggressive urban water restrictions in peacetime history — reducing daily household allowances to 50 liters per person, then 87 liters, closing recreational water facilities, eliminating garden irrigation, and implementing real-time public monitoring of water usage across the city. Day Zero was eventually pushed back and avoided — through rainfall in 2018 and through the conservation measures that reduced consumption by approximately 50% in 18 months. The city did not run out of water. It came close enough to demonstrate, to every water manager in every city in every country that watched, exactly how quickly the margin between water security and water crisis can close in a world of changing rainfall patterns.

The global urban water crisis is not a future scenario. It is a current condition in multiple major cities simultaneously. Chennai, India — a city of 7 million — ran out of water in June 2019, with its four main reservoirs running completely dry and residents dependent on water tankers for supply. Mexico City — a metropolitan area of 22 million — faces a structural water crisis driven by the depletion of the aquifer beneath it, combined with aging and leaking distribution infrastructure that loses approximately 40% of distributed water before it reaches consumers. Jakarta is sinking as its aquifer is depleted. São Paulo experienced a water crisis in 2014 and 2015 that brought its primary reservoir to 3% capacity. These are not small cities in poor regions. They are some of the largest urban centers in the world, facing water insecurity driven by the same combination of factors — changing rainfall patterns, aquifer depletion, population growth, and aging infrastructure — that is affecting urban water systems on every continent.

The mother at the dry tap on day 47 of water restrictions is the human experience of what hydrological data describes in reservoir levels and extraction rates. Her morning — the preparation of breakfast for her child, the ordinary routine of a household that assumes water will come from the tap because it has always come from the tap — has been interrupted by an absence so fundamental that it restructures the entire logic of the day. Everything that requires water must be reconsidered. The pot on the stove is waiting for water that is not coming from the tap. The child's glass is empty. The three days of emergency supply under the sink has been accumulated across six weeks of increasing restriction — each liter stored representing a decision to use less now in case there is less available later. This is not poverty. This is a middle-class family in a city with functioning infrastructure experiencing the water crisis that its rainfall pattern and its reservoir management have produced together.

The reservoir visible through the kitchen window — the bathtub ring of its former water levels visible on its concrete walls — is keeping the record of what happened. The ring shows where the water was. It shows it with the same precision as the flood lines on riverside buildings — a physical record written by water on the structures designed to contain it. The ring is higher than the current water surface. How much higher is the measurement of the crisis — the distance between what was there and what is there now, between the rainfall that filled it over a decade and the drought that emptied it in three years. The reservoir does not have an opinion about the drought. It simply holds what the rainfall delivers. The rainfall delivered less. The reservoir reflects that faithfully. The bathtub ring is the most honest climate record available to the mother at the dry tap. She cannot read it from her kitchen. She does not need to. The empty tap is the translation.

🚰 The tap still works. The water doesn't come. Forty-seven days. The reservoir that took a decade to fill took one drought to empty — one drought intensified by temperature increases that accelerated evaporation, one drought extended by rainfall pattern changes that delayed the rains that used to arrive in predictable months, one drought made more severe by the warming atmosphere that made it drier and longer than the historical record suggested it should be. The tap is open. The morning is waiting. The child's glass is empty. The pot is on the stove. The emergency supply under the sink will last three more days. The forecast does not mention rain. The tap is the most honest object in the house — it tells the truth about what the reservoir holds, what the rainfall delivered, what the climate has become. It is open. It is honest. There is nothing to show.

08/26/2026

Ten rivers are responsible for approximately 90% of the plastic that enters the ocean from river systems — the Yangtze, the Indus, the Yellow, the Hai, the Nile, the Ganges, the Pearl, the Amur, the Niger, and the Mekong. All of them flow through densely populated regions with inadequate waste management infrastructure relative to their urban populations. The concentration of ocean plastic pollution in these river corridors is not evidence that the people living along these rivers are more careless or less environmentally conscious than populations in other parts of the world. It is evidence that the infrastructure for managing plastic waste — collection, sorting, processing, recycling or disposal — is grossly insufficient relative to the volume of plastic being produced and sold in these regions by global consumer goods companies whose packaging ends up in the river. The plastic in the river was produced somewhere. It was sold somewhere. It was used somewhere. It ended up in the river because the waste management system between its sale and the river failed. The failure of the waste management system is a governance and infrastructure failure. The production of the plastic in the first place was a corporate decision. The responsibility for the river is distributed across both.

The business model of single-use plastic packaging — which generates the majority of ocean plastic pollution — was built on the externalization of end-of-life costs. A corporation that produces a product in single-use plastic packaging pays for the production of the plastic and the packaging. It does not pay for the collection, sorting, processing, and disposal of that packaging after the product is consumed. Those costs are externalized onto municipal waste management systems — which in wealthy nations are adequate to manage them, and in developing nations are frequently not. The global consumer goods industry expanded aggressively into developing nation markets in the 1990s and 2000s using single-use plastic packaging optimized for affordability and shelf life in markets with limited refrigeration and distribution infrastructure. The packaging worked. The markets grew. The waste management systems in those markets were not built at equivalent speed. The plastic that could not be managed by the systems that did not exist ended up in the rivers that were there.

The woman washing clothes at the river's edge — pushing plastic aside to access the water beneath — is doing what people have done at this river for generations. The river was clean when her grandmother washed clothes here. The grandmother's grandmother fished from this bank. The river has been the community's water source, its laundry, its bathing space, its social space, its connection to the landscape, for longer than the plastic has existed. The plastic is recent. The relationship between the community and the river is ancient. The plastic has been imposed on that relationship by a production and consumption system that operated globally without adequate attention to what happened to its products after their contents were consumed. The woman pushes the plastic aside. She is not the author of the plastic. She is the person who lives downstream from its production, its sale, its consumption, and its disposal — downstream from every decision that led to the plastic being in the river — accessing the water that has always been here through the plastic that arrived recently.

The Western consumer goods company logo visible on a significant proportion of the plastic is the most important detail in the image — because it is the element that complicates the simple narrative of a developing nation's waste management failure. The plastic in the river is not exclusively locally produced. A significant fraction of the plastic pollution in rivers in developing nations bears the branding of multinational corporations based in wealthy nations — Nestlé, Unilever, Procter & Gamble, Coca-Cola — companies that sell products in these markets in single-use plastic packaging that the local waste management infrastructure cannot handle. Audits of plastic pollution in rivers across Southeast Asia, Africa, and South Asia consistently find that multinational consumer goods brands account for a disproportionate share of the branded plastic collected. The corporations whose products are in the river have not been required to contribute proportionately to the waste management systems required to keep their packaging out of the river.

🌊 The river didn't produce this plastic. The city produced it. The company packaged it. The consumer bought it. The waste management system — underfunded, overwhelmed, inadequate for the volume of plastic the city produces — couldn't manage it. The river carries what the system couldn't manage. The ocean receives what the river carries. The fish absorb what the ocean accumulates. The person who eats the fish absorbs what the fish accumulated. The corporation that made the packaging reports its quarterly results. The results do not include the river. The results do not include the fish. The results do not include the person eating the fish. The results include revenue, margin, and market growth in the developing region where the packaging is now in the river. The quarterly report is accurate within its accounting framework. Its accounting framework excludes the river. The river is still there, carrying the plastic, moving toward the ocean, keeping its own accounting in the only currency it has — the species that can no longer live in it, and the community that can no longer drink from it.

https://meic.org/data-centers/Check out this website to learn how data centers harm the environment and us--and sign the...
06/21/2026

https://meic.org/data-centers/
Check out this website to learn how data centers harm the environment and us--and sign the oetition.

While large data center projects may appear promising at first glance — touting the potential for economic growth and infrastructure investment — the processes that safeguard our environment, electricity bills, public health, and infrastructure are being trampled by the over-eager juggernauts of...

https://youtu.be/yjd6SylmukcThis is a great video about soil regeneration.. Highly recommend.
06/21/2026

https://youtu.be/yjd6Sylmukc
This is a great video about soil regeneration.. Highly recommend.

From the filmmakers of Kiss the Ground and Common Ground - Groundsw...

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