All of us know what we know. We think, act, and plan with that knowledge. Sometimes we act and argue from what we think we know. But we can’t do anything with “not knowing what we don’t know.” Except to imagine. Curiosity and imagination are two of the most remarkable assets a person can have. But our comfort zone is mostly housed in what we know we know. Tragedy, crisis, and devastation rarely come from our comfort zone. Those unexpected events drag us past our experience while demanding attention, resolution, and/or survival. The preparedness generated by our imagination gives us the best chance at survival and recovery. Imagination is sometimes in short supply individually and in community. Fear and lack of information can inhibit imagining beyond our personal experience.
This lack of imagination was termed by Nassim Taleb as the “Lucretius Problem” in his 2007 book “The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable.” He named his term after Titus Lucretius Carus, a Roman philosopher writing in the first century BCE about a human failing he observed. Taleb and Carus both write about the trouble humans have imagining and assimilating anything beyond or outside their own personal experience. Each of us has seen wide rivers and climbed high elevations. Do we define them as the “biggest,” or can we imagine somewhere there is a bigger river and a taller mountain? Do we assume our lived experience is universal, or can we imagine there are other ways to live a life? Do we project our “normal” into the future without any imagination of “un-normal” being thrust upon us?
It took reading “FIRE WEATHER” by John Vaillant for me to see an increased potential of catastrophic forest fire for my community and me. That devastating fire event at Fort McMurray, Alberta in 2016 contained a number of elements in common with Northern Minnesota. Our area has the same intermittent, atypical hot, dry weather, causing drought conditions in the enormous fuel load in our forests. The dead and dying balsam and spruce infected with spruce budworm create the perfect ladder fuels to create a crown fire, which is the hottest fire type. Our topography, like Fort McMurray, is rugged with elevations for fire to climb and inhibit access of ground crews and evacuation of citizens. Our homes are typically built with flammable building materials and landscaped without consideration for the suggestions of Firewise protocols designed to make our woodland homes defensible from forest fire. Our small towns have built homes and businesses with very little space between them. This gives fire the advantage of intensification in heat and speed. The subdivisions of Fort McMurray were examples, as was the community of Lahaina, Maui in 2023.
The Fort McMurray structures were defended by well-paid and equipped professional urban firefighters. Structures in the counties of the Arrowhead are defended by multiple and dispersed volunteer fire departments made of local residents. Some are well equipped, and some are not. Some have enough volunteers and others need more help. The local volunteers are trained to fight structure fires only. Forest fires are attacked by firefighters coming from state and federal resources operating on reduced budgets and short-staffed in the face of a longer fire season over increased geographic areas with more intense fires. One heliport used for fire suppression in NE Cook County is currently unusable due to a deep erosion of the access road. After two years, it is “in engineering” and “slated for repairs this fall.” An example of budget and staff cuts. Limited resources have to be prioritized, making it imperative that local communities prepare in advance for something none of us has seen. We must rise above our individual and community “Lucretius Problem,” which prevents us from imagining the unimaginable, so we can be well prepared. Plume fires creating their own weather have become unmanageable. When people and equipment are overrun by a big fire, only a change in wind and weather can slow or stop the raging blaze. But we can manage our preemptive preparedness.
St Louis, Lake, and Cook County officials and residents are well aware of wilderness forest fires that destroy large tracts of forest with relatively few structures. The last time a whole town was destroyed in Minnesota was the Hinckley fire of 1894. Large-scale residential destruction by forest fire is something out of the frame of reference for most residents. The recent Stewart River fire is a stark reminder to get past our “Lucretius Problem,” a lack of imagining something not yet experienced. Not only were homes and property destroyed, but road access to Highway 61 was eliminated for several days. Fortunately, there was an alternate route. However, should 61 be overrun by fire further up the shore, there are no alternate routes. None for emergency vehicles or evacuation. This is one of several characteristics that puts the Arrowhead at additional risk. Many residences, resorts, and summer homes have just one access point consisting of narrow, forested gravel roads lined with dead and dying evergreens. These structures are sparsely located over a vast forested landscape. Any firefighting activity with limited funds, staff, and water will have to prioritize its efforts. That fact makes it imperative to have a personal plan.
City residents are encouraged to have a plan to escape their home if fire should strike. They can stand on the curb as fire trucks arrive. Residents of the Arrowhead need a plan to escape their whole forest. Upon evacuation, we have to leave the house, then drive some miles to safety, perhaps with trees burning on either side of our only escape route. I have spoken with dog mushers up the Arrowhead Trail. They have long-standing plans to get their dog teams safely evacuated. Pre-planning and preparation that includes staying in touch with emerging events and professional warnings to evacuate are the key to surviving a big fire in our area.
There are mitigating factors happening a thousand miles away that put us at additional risk right here. The Federal Government is re-organizing the United States Forest Service. The relocation of the Forest Service headquarters from Washington, DC to Idaho has resulted in substantial staffing reductions, including the early retirement of senior staff with their years of expertise. Management of our national forests is being shifted away from centralized federal control and turned over to individual states to manage the forests within their borders. This will result in a patchwork of management priorities and techniques. This might increase mineral and timber extraction to the detriment of other “multi-use” functions.
The chaos created during our critical fire season is the most pressing issue at hand. Our national fire season is lengthening as it is worldwide. The western states’ missing snowpack of last winter threatens severe drought and “dead-pool” reservoirs along the Colorado River, reducing electricity and water used in firefighting. The changing environment is creating massive fire storms even as our country’s leadership prioritizes smaller government over public safety.
I must apologize for these articles on our area’s vulnerability to massive fires because my intention is to move us beyond our individual and collective “Lucretius Problem.” My wife and I have built and landscaped to Firewise specifications and installed a large fire suppression system around our buildings in hopes of making our forest home defensible as Firewise literature suggests. We have our “Go Bag” pretty well packed. I still lose sleep some nights. I am sorry for your lost sleep. Moving beyond fear and worry will help us collectively plan for and survive the “big one.”
