Fighting Historic Wildfires Amid Bad Ideas and No Funding

The below article is by Ed Struzik. Ed will be a keynote speaker at CatIQ Connect in February 2019.

Note that this article originally appeared in The Conversation.

Shortly after my book “Firestorm, How Wildfire Will Shape Our Future” was published in late 2017, I received a flurry of invitations to speak about the challenges of dealing with fires that are burning bigger, hotter, more often — and in increasingly unpredictable ways.

The invitations came from all over, from Los Angeles to Whitehorse in the Yukon and from Campbell River on Vancouver Island, to Portland, Me.

I had serious doubts that anyone in Whitehorse would come out to hear me speak on a Saturday night in the dead of winter when it was close to -30 C.

It turned out to be standing room only.

The invite came from a group of concerned citizens, business leaders and the Yukon Science Institute. The attendees included homeowners, firefighters, emergency response personnel and Yukon cabinet minister John Streicker, who is responsible for the wildfire management division.

The discussion that followed my talk was heated at times, but it led to an open and frank conversation on how this boreal forest community, and others like it, might deal with wildfires like the one that engulfed Fort McMurray, Alta., in 2016 and those that are burning big in British Columbia this summer.


More and more Canadian communities are signing up for the very sensible Fire Smart program, which promotes a variety of preventative measures such as forest thinning and the use of fire-resistant building materials to reduce the impact of fire.

Vulnerable towns like Nelson, B.C., are on the right track in developing evacuation plans and encouraging people to keep enough food and water on hand to sustain them for 72 hours. First Nations communities in B.C. are working with scientists like Lori Daniels to make their communities and forest-management zones more resilient.

But there are also a lot of poorly thought-out proposals being made.

Some residents of Jasper are pressuring Parks Canada to clear-cut the forests around town to form a fire break to protect it.

Across North America, the logging industry is lobbying governments to salvage the healthy trees and the partially burned ones that remain in a burned-out area. The rationale in this case is that a dead or dying forest has little value other than boosting a local economy.

There is a significant role for the timber industry in managing wildfire in the future. But a growing number of studies show that clear-cutting a burned-out forest is not the answer.

Fire is a natural process that makes forests more resilient to drought, disease and future fires. And it’s good for wildlife.

Woodpeckers, nighthawks and many species of owls thrive in burned-out areas. Elk and moose feed on the aspen shoots that rise up quickly after a fire. Grizzly bears and black bears benefit from the roots and berries that do well when a fire exposes the forest floor to sun and rain. Rivers and lakes tend to heat up in nasty ways when there are no trees to shade them and the cold-water fish they nurture.

There is also tendency to think that the best way of dealing with fire is to pour more money into traditional firefighting resources. When I spoke at the University of California, Los Angeles in April, many people in the audience called for more water bombers and irrigation systems.

While this helps, it’s not the whole answer. The only thing that is going to stop a big wind-driven fire that typically blows in from the east is the Pacific Ocean, Ralph M. Terrazas, the fire chief of the Los Angeles Fire Department, said during the question-and-answer session that followed.


Author: Glenn McGillivray, Managing Director, Institute for Catastrophic Loss Reduction (ICLR)

On a recent long haul flight I finally broke down and watched ‘Only the Brave’, the 2017 Josh Brolin movie about the 19 wildland firefighters killed at Yarnell Hill, Arizona in June, 2013.

Up to that point, I had refused to watch the movie, thinking that it would likely romanticize wildland firefighting and demonize wildland fire.

I refused to watch the movie like I refuse to call the Fort McMurray wildfire ‘The Beast’, an overly romantic moniker coined by the now retired fire chief of that city who gave the fire the qualities of an evil, soulless creature. I didn’t (and still don’t) see the benefits of animorphizing the fire, making it seem like a rational, calculating, punitive creature. In my view, it helps no one to imply that such a fire is some kind of intentional being with a mind of its own. We won’t work to prevent such an event from reoccurring with such a mindset.

I remain dedicated to not calling the Fort McMurray fire that name, though I admit I was largely wrong about the movie. It is a pretty good flick, though there is one part where the fire superintendent (played by Brolin) looks over the expanse of scrub in his protection zone and says something to the effect that he and his crew “protect all of this.’

The idea of ‘protecting’ a forest against fire is largely the wrong stance to take (especially in Canada’s boreal forest, which needs fire for its own good). It is this ‘suppression at all costs’ mentality that has gotten many North American jurisdictions into the mess they are currently in, i.e. where years of successful suppression has ensured that wildlands are choked with fuel that’s now just waiting to go up like a tinder. In large measure, saying we need to stop fire on the landscape is akin to saying we have to stop the wind or the rain.

But I don’t wish to spend my time here talking about the issue of suppression. I deal with that here.

Instead, I want to put forth an idea of how we can better understand the interface fire problem (i.e. the issue of fire getting into communities), at least partly by looking at what we’ve learned from the past.

In the distant past, several major cities, mostly in Western Europe and North America, have experienced large conflagrations caused by one thing or another (like rambunctious cows). Fires in such places as London, New York, Toronto, Chicago and San Francisco lead to many changes in how cities are designed, how buildings are constructed, and in fire education and safety.

I suspect that these fires were largely viewed in technical terms and, thus, were seen as addressable, where measures could be put into place to prevent or, at the very least, reduce the risk of reoccurrences.

Firewalls were placed within and between buildings; openings (like small windows) were limited on the exposure sides of buildings; fire doors became common; buildings were outfitted with fire alarms, suppression equipment with dedicated water supplies and, from the late 19th century, sprinkler systems; less wood was used in construction; open flames were limited, and so on. Parallel to these efforts came the rise of education programs to inform people about the risk of fire and actions they could take to limit ignitions and spread. Over time, both the frequency and severity of urban fires dropped precipitously, to the point where fires are no longer a major cause of death and the main cause of insured property damage in most industrialized countries.

These actions are essentially early examples of risk management and are largely still in practice today. Indeed, it is still common for the risk manager of, say, a factory or mill to do a walk around of a site and make recommendations about how to prevent ignition and spread of fire.

But we don’t take this approach with homes in the interface. Why?

First, wildfires are viewed as ‘natural disasters’, and there is a widespread view that “nothing can be done about natural disasters” – they occur at the whim of Mother Nature. Really, though, a wildfire is a natural hazard, the disaster comes when the hazard exploits manmade vulnerabilities. I think the view that losses are inevitable when a hazard strikes is leading to inaction when it comes to wildland fire. For some reason, we treat the prevention of interface fires differently than we treat the prevention of other fires. But fire is fire.

Second, people have a misconception about wildfires and the interface, believing that wildland fires roll through the forest, hit a built up area and keep rolling. But what largely happens is that embers from the wildfire are blown far ahead of the fire front and ignite flammable materials located around structures. These materials then either ignite the structure directly, or ignite something else (like a wood shed or deck) that in turn ignites the structure. This is what largely occurred in Fort McMurray. It is also what occurred in the Tubbs Fire in Northern California in October 2017, except the embers travelled very deeply into the urban core of Santa Clara, leading to the incineration of about 2,800 homes, mostly in the Low Risk part of town (as designated by the city’s statutory state wildfire risk maps). These maps apparently did not take the state’s often intense Santa Ana winds into consideration.

Once you realize that wildfires are not juggernauts that roll through town like a steamroller and that structural ignitions from wildfire embers are preventable, then you can put programs into place to address the issue of flammability of individual structures, subdivisions and entire communities located in the interface.

One problem I see is that we may be talking too much to the wrong folks; to wildland fire experts and not to structural fire experts, fire modellers and other urban fire experts.

Now don’t get me wrong. Wildland fire experts, including fire ecologists and wildland fire suppression experts, are key throughout the entire lifecycle of a wildland fire – (long) before, during and (long) after. And we need to recognize that the condition and health of the forest around the interface community will largely dictate how intense the fire will be, the rate at which it spreads, and the amount of embers that are produced (the greater the fine fuels, the more embers).

But once a wildland fire gets into town, the fire stops being a forest fire and starts a new life as an urban fire, possibly becoming an urban conflagration or ‘firestorm’ if enough structures are ignited (often via structure to structure spread of fire).

So we have to recognize that once the fire hits town, it becomes a different fire, feeding on different fuels (like structures and vehicles). A fire ecologist, for example, has no expertise in the mechanisms that lead to structural ignition and spread of fire in an urban setting.

Thus, we need to bring structural or urban fire departments and experts into the discussion and leverage their knowledge (of course, many are already involved in the discussion, but many are not).

We have to pull in such organizations as the Canadian Association of Fire Chiefs, the Aboriginal Firefighters Association of Canada and their provincial counterparts, as well as provincial firefighter associations.

We need to bring in such researchers as fire modellers, to better understand how fire grabs hold and spreads in urban areas (we know what causes structures to ignite, but need to do more to understand how entire subdivisions are lost) and the sequence of such spread. Some work has already been done in the fire following earthquake research area, and much of the learnings there can be carried over to wildland urban interface fire research.

Essentially, we need to take the same approach with wildland fire in interface communities as we do with all other urban fires, including urban conflagrations.

This can only start by talking to the right people.


Improving Safety Through Simulating Wildfire Response

Steven Gwynne, Ph.D., Research Officer, NRC Construction – Fire Safety, National Research Council Canada

Wildland fires represent an important safety issue in many regions of the world – including Canada. This is complicated by the current location and possible future expansion of wildland-urban interfaces (WUI) posing severe challenges from a community evacuation perspective. Large WUI fires, like the recent Fort McMurray fire, are associated with severe negative consequences including massive community evacuation, property losses, social disruption, short- and long-term damage to infrastructure, injuries, and in some instances fatalities of evacuees and responders. Tools to assist planning and response are essential to provide evidence to planners, evacuees and responders to better address these challenges.

As we go forward, it is expected that droughts will get more severe and prolonged, thunderstorms more frequent, wind patterns will change and harsh hot seasons will affect new regions. Current trends in community planning show that more people are inhabiting areas that are now or soon to be vulnerable to WUI incidents. Housing developments in WUI areas are particularly appealing given their low cost, access to recreational pursuits, and the aesthetic benefits of being closer to nature. Therefore, WUI incidents are likely to become more severe and affect new areas and those areas already susceptible to wildfires.

The social and physical geography associated with WUI communities present a special challenge that needs to be addressed when ensuring life safety. In order to successfully respond to a wildfire incident, those involved must have an understanding of current and future events enabling them to reach safety or facilitating others to do so. Decisions made during community planning, property upkeep, emergency planning, public education, responder training, and during the evacuation itself are all heavily reliant on the information available. To ensure that this preparation and response is adequate, the effectiveness of the pre-incident decisions and decisions taken during the incident needs to be understood to allow assessment of these decisions before they are finalised and executed; i.e. before they are put into practice in the real-world. This effectiveness is reliant on the accuracy and completeness of the information available.

Very often, the wisdom derived from previous wildfire disasters is the only available source to identify current scenarios of interest and plan the response of a given community. However, there is no guarantee that these past experiences correlate well with the next disaster to be faced or with the conditions that might contribute to the outcome of the incident in the current context – especially given the expected evolution of WUI incidents. In this context, a simulation framework that can establish evacuation performance ahead of time, and that is capable of examining different designs and response scenarios would be very useful. Such a computational framework might be used to predict how the evacuation develops based on different fire scenarios (different origin, speed, development, etc.) and according to different evacuation decisions (e.g., staggered evacuation by neighbourhoods, the arrangement of traffic flow on highways, or the appearance of congestion). Moreover, current resources do not allow for the impact of procedural decisions to be assessed (and quantified) before they are executed; i.e. how conditions might evolve and might affect and be affected by an evacuating community. This is an important limitation in current approaches – that cater to understanding the current situation but cannot provide numerical evidence to support procedural decisions given forecasted changes in conditions. To do this, simulation tools are needed to explore the development of a wildfire, and the impact that it has on the response (e.g. evacuation using vehicles or on foot) – to identify current and future vulnerabilities and inform ways of addressing it. This might then provide an additional tool for planners and responders in their attempts to address WUI life-safety issues as we go forward.