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Three Years of Drought That Ended an Empire: How Climate Crushed Hattusa

The Hittites were an ancient Indo- European people who established a major Bronze Age civilization and empire in Anatolia (modern- day Türkiye) from roughly the 17th to the early 12th century BCE. They were one of the great powers of the Late Bronze Age Near East, rivaling Egypt, Mitanni, Babylon, and Assyria. Their language is the oldest attested Indo- European language.

Hattusa (also spelled Hattuša, Hattusas, or Hattusha; Turkish: Hattuşaş) was the capital of the Hittite Empire during the Late Bronze Age. Its extensive ruins lie near the modern village of Boğazkale (formerly Boğazköy) in Çorum Province, north- central Türkiye, about 150- 210 km east of Ankara, within the great bend of the Kızılırmak River (ancient Marashantiya/Halys).

A dramatic landscape featuring ancient stone ruins and a large hilltop structure under a cloudy sky, with cracked earth and sparse vegetation in the foreground. — AI generated by Grok

They did not call themselves “Hittites.” That name comes from the biblical Hebrew term for the land of Hatti (central Anatolia).

In their own records they referred to their realm as the Land of Hatti. They absorbed and blended with earlier local populations, especially the non- Indo- European Hattians (whose language and many cultural elements they adopted), as well as Luwians and Hurrians.

Origins and Early History

Speakers of an Indo- European language (related to later languages such as English, Greek, and Sanskrit) appear to have entered Anatolia by the early 2nd millennium BCE, possibly from regions north of the Black Sea. Early polities included the kingdom of Kussara and the city of Kanesh/Neša (modern Kültepe), an important Assyrian trading colony site.

The Hittite state proper began around 1650 BCE when Hattusili I (or Labarna) made Hattusa (modern Boğazkale/Boğazköy, about 150- 200 km east of Ankara) the capital. The city, set in a rugged, defensible highland basin, became the political, religious, and administrative heart of the kingdom for centuries.

Scholars conventionally divide Hittite history into:

Old Kingdom (c. 1650- 1500/1400 BCE)
A poorly documented Middle Kingdom or interregnum
New Kingdom / Empire (c. 1400- c. 1180 BCE)

The Old Kingdom

Early kings expanded control across central Anatolia and into northern Syria. Notable rulers include:

Hattusili I (c. 1650- 1620 BCE): Consolidated power and established Hattusa.
Mursili I (c. 1620- 1590 BCE): Conducted a dramatic raid down the Euphrates that sacked Babylon around 1595 BCE, ending the Amorite dynasty there. The Hittites could not hold distant Mesopotamian territories.

Dynastic struggles and weak succession followed. King Telipinu issued an edict attempting to regulate royal succession and stabilize the state.

The Empire Period (New Kingdom)

The empire reached its height in the 14th-13th centuries BCE. Key rulers:

Suppiluliuma I (c. 1344-1322 BCE): The greatest Hittite conqueror. He destroyed the Mitanni kingdom, established firm control over northern Syria, and placed vassal kings (including his own sons) in key cities such as Carchemish and Aleppo. The empire then stretched across most of Anatolia, northern Syria, and parts of Upper Mesopotamia.
Muwatalli II (c. 1295-1272 BCE): Fought the famous Battle of Kadesh (c. 1274 BCE) against the Egyptian pharaoh Ramesses II. One of the largest chariot battles in history, it ended in a tactical stalemate; both sides claimed victory.
Hattusili III (c. 1267-1237 BCE): Negotiated the world’s oldest known surviving international peace treaty with Egypt (c. 1259 BCE). The parity treaty established mutual non-aggression, defensive alliance, and extradition provisions; copies survive in both Hittite and Egyptian versions. A dynastic marriage followed.

Later kings faced growing pressure from Assyria, internal rivals, the Kaska tribes to the north, and western Anatolian states.

Society, Culture, and Achievements

Language and Writing: Hittite (Nesite) was written in cuneiform on clay tablets. Archives at Hattusa contain tens of thousands of tablets covering laws, treaties, rituals, myths, correspondence, and administration, many in multiple languages (Hittite, Akkadian, Hurrian, Hattic, Luwian). Hieroglyphic Luwian was also used, especially on monuments. Bedřich Hrozný deciphered Hittite in 1915, proving it Indo- European.
Law and Administration: A sophisticated legal code existed. Kings ruled as divine representatives but relied heavily on treaties with vassals, a system of oaths, and delegated authority suited to Anatolia’s fragmented geography.
Military: Famous for three- man chariots and effective use of iron technology (though widespread iron use came later). They maintained professional armies and extensive fortifications.
Religion: Highly polytheistic and inclusive, “the Land of a Thousand Gods”. They readily incorporated deities of conquered or neighboring peoples (Hattian, Hurrian, Mesopotamian). Major gods included the Storm God of Hatti (Tarhunt and or Teshub) and the Sun Goddess of Arinna. The capital contained numerous temples; the king performed important ritual roles. Rock sanctuaries such as Yazılıkaya feature elaborate processions of deities.
Architecture and Art: Monumental stone walls, gates (Lion Gate, Sphinx Gate), temples, and rock reliefs. Hattusa was a large, planned city with upper and lower sections, reservoirs, and sophisticated defenses.

Decline and Collapse

Around 1200-1180 BCE the empire disintegrated as part of the broader Late Bronze Age collapse. Hattusa was largely abandoned (and later burned); the royal archives cease. Contributing factors appear to have included:

Prolonged severe drought (tree- ring evidence points to multi- year droughts around 1198-1196 BCE that devastated grain harvests)
Internal dynastic strife and loss of central control
Attacks by the Kaska and other groups
Pressure from migrating peoples (including those associated with the “Sea Peoples” in Egyptian records)
Economic disruption and plague

The Hittite language and cuneiform tradition disappeared from central Anatolia. Successor “Neo- Hittite” (or Syro- Hittite) states continued in southeastern Anatolia and northern Syria (e.g., Carchemish) into the Iron Age until conquered by the Assyrians in the 8th- 7th centuries BCE. Biblical references to Hittites generally refer to these later groups or to residual populations in Canaan.

Legacy and Rediscovery

Forgotten for nearly three millennia except for brief biblical mentions, the Hittites were rediscovered through archaeology in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Excavations at Hattusa (begun systematically by German teams in 1906 under Hugo Winckler and continuing today) revealed the capital’s scale and the vast tablet archives. The site is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The Hittites demonstrated sophisticated diplomacy, legal innovation, multi-ethnic administration, and military power in a challenging highland environment. Their peace treaty with Egypt remains one of the earliest examples of formal international diplomacy, and their Indo- European language provides crucial evidence for historical linguistics.

Two carved stone bear sculptures flank an ancient pathway, surrounded by a rocky landscape and blue sky. — The Lion Gate at Hattusa, the capital of the Hittite Empire.
Lion Gate at Hattusa – World History Encyclopedia

Hattusa (also spelled Hattuša, Hattusas, or Hattusha; Turkish: Hattuşaş) was the capital of the Hittite Empire during the Late Bronze Age. Its extensive ruins lie near the modern village of Boğazkale (formerly Boğazköy) in Çorum Province, north- central Türkiye, about 150- 210 km east of Ankara, within the great bend of the Kızılırmak River (ancient Marashantiya/Halys).

It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site (inscribed 1986) recognized for its urban organization, monumental fortifications, temples, royal residences, sculptured gates, and the nearby Yazılıkaya rock sanctuary.

Historical Overview

Settlement at the site dates back to the Chalcolithic period (as early as the 6th millennium BCE), with continuous occupation through the Bronze Age. In the early 2nd millennium BCE, it was a Hattian town (called Hattush). Around the mid- 18th century BCE, the Hittite king Anitta of Kussara conquered and destroyed it, placing a curse on the site.

It was reoccupied and became the permanent capital around 1650 BCE under Hattusili I (who took his throne name meaning “man of Hattusa”), shifting the center of power from earlier cities such as Neša and Kanesh. It remained the main political, administrative, and religious capital for most of the empire’s history (with temporary relocations, such as under Muwatalli II to Tarhuntassa and earlier under Tudhaliya III to Samuha).

At its peak in the 14th-13th centuries BCE (especially under Suppiluliuma I and later kings), the city covered roughly 1.8 km² (about 440 acres or 180 hectares). Estimates of population range up to 40,000-50,000. It consisted of:

An inner and lower city (c. 0.8 km²) with the royal citadel, major temples, and administrative buildings.
An outer and upper city with additional temples, residences, and monumental gates.

The city was gradually abandoned around 1200-1180 BCE during the Late Bronze Age collapse, as the Hittite Empire disintegrated. Evidence points to a methodical evacuation by the royal administration and elites rather than a sudden violent conquest; the city was later burned. Contributing factors included severe multi- year droughts (tree- ring data indicate extreme dryness around 1198-1196 BCE), famine, internal instability, and external pressures. Sparse post- Hittite settlement followed.

Layout and Major Features

Hattusa occupied a rugged, elevated plateau (around 1,100 m) with natural defenses of steep ridges and valleys. Key elements include:

Fortifications: Massive double walls (casemate construction) totaling 6- 8 km in length, following the terrain in a zigzag pattern. Built or expanded especially under Suppiluliuma I (c. 1344- 1322 BCE). Sections reached 8 m or more in height. A reconstructed stretch of mud- brick wall (using traditional materials) helps visualize the original appearance.
Monumental Gates:
- Lion Gate (southwest): Famous pair of large stone lions (or lion-sphinxes) carved in high relief, facing outward as guardians.
- King’s Gate (east): Features a warrior- God relief (originally interpreted as a king; now seen as a deity, possibly the war god).
- Sphinx Gate (south, on the Yerkapı rampart): Originally had four sphinxes (some now in museums; replicas on site).
- Yerkapı (“Earth Gate”): An artificial embankment with a long (c. 70- 71 m) stone-lined postern tunnel that visitors can still walk through.
Büyükkale (“Great Fortress”): The royal citadel and palace complex on the highest peak, containing administrative buildings, archives, and residential quarters of the king.
Great Temple (Temple 1) in the Lower City: The largest known Hittite temple complex (roughly 65 × 42 m or more, covering thousands of square meters). Dedicated primarily to the Storm God of Hatti and the Sun Goddess of Arinna. It included storage magazines with enormous pithoi (storage jars). A notable large green stone (possibly a cult object or base) is associated with the temple area.
Upper City temples: Multiple additional temples (at least four major ones) arranged around courtyards.
Yazılıkaya: An open- air rock sanctuary about 1- 2 km northeast of the main city. It features elaborate processional reliefs of Hittite (and Hurrian- influenced) deities, kings, and mythological scenes carved into natural rock chambers. It likely served major religious ceremonies.

Other features include water reservoirs, workshops, residential areas, and outlying fortresses (e.g., Kayalıboğaz).

Archives and Discoveries

Excavations have yielded more than 30,000 cuneiform clay tablets and fragments (the Boğazköy Archive). These form the primary source for Hittite history, law, diplomacy (including the Egyptian peace treaty after Kadesh), religion, mythology, and administration. Tablets appear in Hittite, Akkadian, Hurrian, Hattic, Luwian, and other languages. Recent finds include a previously unknown Indo-European language linked to the region of Kalašma.

Archaeology and Modern Site

French explorer Charles Texier first drew attention to the ruins in 1834. Systematic excavations began in 1906 under the German Oriental Society (Hugo Winckler) and have continued, primarily under the German Archaeological Institute (currently directed by Andreas Schachner). Work is ongoing (reaching the 120th season in recent years) and involves multidisciplinary teams. The site remains an active dig and open- air museum.

Visitors can explore the extensive ruins, reconstructed wall sections, gates, temples, and Yazılıkaya. The surrounding landscape of rocky hills and valleys still conveys the dramatic setting chosen by the Hittites for their highland capital.

Hattusa stands as the best-preserved and most informative capital of a major Late Bronze Age Near Eastern empire, providing unique insight into Hittite urbanism, religion, and statecraft.

A view of a reconstructed ancient fortress with tall walls and crenellations, set against a backdrop of rolling green hills and blue skies. — The city walls of Hattusa. Photo: **Wikimedia**
Hattusha’s Timeless Beauty on World Hittite Day | Anatolian Archaeology

Hattusa (near modern Boğazkale in Çorum Province, north- central Türkiye) sits on the high central Anatolian plateau at roughly 1,000- 1,250 meters elevation. Its climate is continental and semi- arid, both in the present day and, with some variations, during the Hittite period (c. 1650- 1180 BCE).

Modern Climate

Central Anatolia experiences a classic continental climate influenced by surrounding mountain ranges (Pontus to the north, Taurus to the south):

Hot, dry summers: Daytime highs often reach 30- 31°C in July- August, with very little rainfall (August averages around 10 mm).
Cold winters: January daytime averages around 3°C, with nights frequently dropping to –5°C or lower; snow is common and can persist on higher ground for weeks.
Precipitation: Annual totals are relatively low, typically 550- 600 mm, concentrated in winter and spring (highest in December, around 80 mm). Summers are the driest period.
Seasonal pattern: Short, vibrant springs with wildflowers; crisp, clear autumns; limited possibilities for extensive artificial irrigation due to the terrain and water sources.

Average annual temperatures are around 11°C overall. The landscape is steppe- like with limited forest cover today, though pollen and other evidence suggest denser woodlands existed in earlier periods before human impact (including Hittite- era deforestation for construction, fuel, and agriculture).

These conditions support one main annual harvest in good years, primarily of grains, making the region vulnerable to rainfall variability.

Ancient Climate and Impacts on the Hittites

Paleoclimate data (especially pollen analyses) indicate that overall climatic conditions in central Anatolia have remained broadly similar for the last ~12,000 years since the end of the last Ice Age, continental and semi- arid, with limited rainfall. However, there were significant short- term fluctuations.

The Hittite core territory around Hattusa depended heavily on rain- fed agriculture (wheat, barley) and animal husbandry. The empire developed resilience strategies, including grain storage, taxation systems, and redistribution from more productive areas, which allowed it to survive ordinary single- year droughts (which occurred regularly).

Key climate impact — the severe multi-year drought of c. 1198–1196 BCE:

A landmark 2023 study published in Nature analyzed tree- ring widths and stable carbon isotope (δ¹³C) records from ancient juniper trees recovered at Gordion (about 230 km west of Hattusa, still within the broader central Anatolian climate zone). These trees provide an annually resolved dryness record spanning centuries.

The data show a general shift toward drier conditions from the later 13th into the early 12th century BCE.
The standout event was an unusually severe, continuous three-year drought approximately 1198- 1196 BCE (±3 years). This ranks as one of the driest (or the driest) multi-year intervals between 1400 and 1000 BCE.
Narrow tree rings indicate the trees were severely stressed by lack of water; isotope data independently confirm the extreme dryness.

Consequences for Hattusa and the empire:

Near- complete crop failure for three consecutive years would have exhausted grain stores (normally sufficient for one bad year).
Widespread famine, collapse of the agricultural tax base, inability to feed the large standing army, and social unrest.
Hattusa and other key sites show evidence of empty grain depots around this time.
Textual references from the late Hittite period and neighboring regions (e.g., Ugarit) mention famine and grain shortages.
The landlocked nature of the Hittite heartland limited options for importing food on a large scale.
Combined with existing stresses (dynastic conflicts, external pressures from groups such as the Kaska, possible disease, and broader Late Bronze Age disruptions), the drought is widely viewed as a major tipping point that overwhelmed the state’s resilience. Hattusa was methodically abandoned by the royal administration and elites around 1180 BCE (or shortly after), with later burning of the emptied city.

Scholars emphasize that climate was not the sole cause of the empire’s collapse, it interacted with political, economic, military, and social factors in a “perfect storm.”

Single- year droughts were manageable; three consecutive extreme years were not.

This event provides one of the most precisely dated links between climate stress and the fall of a major ancient Near Eastern power.

In summary, Hattusa’s semi- arid highland environment shaped Hittite agriculture, urban planning (including water management features), and ultimately contributed decisively to the empire’s end through a rare, prolonged drought at a critical historical moment.

Ancient Seas Reveal Earth’s Poles Went Wandering Four Times in 320 Million Years

A new study in Science (published around early October 2026) shows that analysis of ancient continental flooding patterns reveals multiple episodes of relatively rapid “true polar wander” (TPW) over the past 320 million years.

True polar wander (TPW), when the solid outer Earth (crust and mantle) shifts relative to the planet’s spin axis, is hard to detect reliably with standard paleomagnetic methods. Domeier et al. used an independent approach based on reconstructions of ancient sea level as a proxy.

Illustration of the Earth showing its poles moving over 320 million years, with labels 'Paleonorth' and 'Paleosouth', surrounded by vegetation and dinosaurs. — AI generated by Grok

True polar wander occurs when the solid outer Earth (crust and mantle) reorients relative to the planet’s spin axis (while the core and climate belts stay more fixed to that axis). This happens as Earth redistributes mass (e.g., via tectonic or mantle processes) to keep its rotation stable. It is distinct from magnetic pole reversals or ordinary plate tectonics.

Today, TPW occurs at roughly 10 cm per year (partly linked to ice- sheet melting), faster than average plate motion, but its past speed and frequency have been debated due to conflicting paleomagnetic data.

Rapid TPW shifts the solid Earth relative to the equatorial bulge created by rotation. This produces a distinctive “quadrupolar” (beachball or four- leaf- clover) pattern of relative sea- level change: two opposing quarters of the globe experience flooding while the other two become more exposed. The water itself stays put; continents effectively move through the bulge. This signature is not produced by other common processes.

Lead author Mathew Domeier (University of Oslo’s Centre for Planetary Habitability) and colleagues examined continental flooding reconstructions at 10- million- year intervals over the last 320 million years, combined with statistical modeling. They identified multiple robust quadrupolar patterns consistent with rapid TPW (rates exceeding roughly 0.6° per million years, faster than most tectonic plates).

Four intervals show strong signals:

Early Jurassic (~200- 190 million years ago)
Late Jurassic- Early Cretaceous (~150- 140 million years ago; one of the strongest)
Mid-Cretaceous (~100- 90 million years ago)
Oligocene- Miocene (~30- 20 million years ago; more debated or weaker)

These broadly align with some earlier paleomagnetic and plate- motion suggestions of rapid TPW, especially in the Jurassic and Cretaceous (Age of Dinosaurs). The study finds little evidence for rapid TPW through most of the Cenozoic and does not support the idea that TPW was the main driver of Pangea’s rapid northward motion in the late Carboniferous- Permian.

The findings challenge views that TPW has been negligible or always slow on geological timescales. Over millions of years, even these “rapid” shifts can move continents across climate zones (with less relative motion between them), influence sea- level patterns, and potentially affect climate, the biosphere, and other Earth- system processes. Researchers emphasize treating TPW as an episodic control rather than a constant background effect.

In short, ancient sea- level maps act as an independent “fingerprint” confirming that Earth’s geographic poles have wandered more dynamically, and episodically, than some prior models assumed.

Diagram showing regions of regression and transgression related to Earth's geoid, spin axis, and equatorial bulge. — Patterns of sea level change induced by TPW. Credit: *Science* (2026). DOI: 10.1126/science. aec8423

Quadrupolar sea level fluctuations reveal episodes of rapid polar wander

They identified a robust quadrupolar (degree- 2, order- 1 spherical harmonic, $Y_{21}$ ) pattern of global sea- level fluctuations caused by relative changes in centrifugal potential during rapid TPW. This shows that couplings among Earth’s rotational dynamics, mantle processes, and surface environments can be highly episodic.

True polar wander (TPW) is occurring today at ~10 cm/year, faster than the average rate of differential plate motion. It has been unclear whether this rate is only transient and negligible on geological timescales or whether Earth has experienced protracted rapid TPW lasting millions of years. Paleomagnetic data have suggested fast TPW episodes, but the limitations of that record have prevented definitive conclusions.

Rapid TPW should produce predictable global sea- level fluctuations tied to changes in centrifugal potential. The authors tested this prediction using continental flooding reconstructions and found multiple robust quadrupolar patterns since 320 million years ago. This confirms that protracted rapid TPW has occurred on Earth.

Key findings (from the paper and supporting materials)

Analysis of continental flooding maps at 10- Myr intervals, combined with statistical modeling, revealed significant $Y_{21}$ (quadrupolar and or tesseral) signals.
Four main episodes with rates ≥ ~0.6° per million years (a conservative lower bound inferred from forward modeling of viscoelastic Earth responses):
- ~200- 190 Ma (Early Jurassic)
- ~150- 140 Ma (Late Jurassic- Early Cretaceous; one of the strongest)
- ~100- 90 Ma (mid- Cretaceous)
- ~30- 20 Ma (Oligocene- Miocene)
These signals are robust even after tests for regional confounding effects.
Little evidence for rapid TPW through most of the Cenozoic.
No significant support for the hypothesis that rapid northward motion of Pangea in the late Carboniferous- Permian was driven primarily by TPW.
The results broadly corroborate some earlier paleomagnetic and plate- motion studies while providing an independent test that avoids many of their limitations.

Implications

The work refutes the view that TPW has been negligible or persistently slow on geological timescales. It highlights TPW as an episodic control on sea- level change and, potentially, other global environmental and biological processes (e.g., by moving continents across climate belts while relative plate positions change less).

Data and codes are available on Zenodo (version linked in the supplementary materials). The full paper is behind the Science paywall; the abstract, editor’s summary, and supplementary materials (including methods details on the $Y_{21}$ forward model and rate bounds) are the primary publicly extractable content. Secondary coverage in outlets such as New Scientist, Scientific American, and AAAS summaries expands on the environmental context.

Journal information: Science, Vol. 394, Issue 6819, pp. 87- 90 (1 October 2026)

DOI: 10.1126/science.aec8423

Authors: Mathew Domeier, Leandro C. Gallo, Chloé M. Marcilly and Trond H. Torsvik

Abstract

True polar wander (TPW) is presently occurring at a rate of ~10 centimeters per year, exceeding the mean rate of differential plate motion. Whether this rate is transient and negligible on geological timescales or whether Earth has experienced rapid TPW lasting millions of years is unclear. Paleomagnetic evidence has been used to propose fast episodes of TPW, but limitations of the paleomagnetic record have precluded definitive results. Rapid TPW will induce global sea level fluctuations associated with relative changes in centrifugal potential, offering an independent test. We evaluated this prediction using continental flooding reconstructions and identified multiple robust quadrupolar patterns since 320 million years ago, confirming that protracted rapid TPW has occurred on Earth and that couplings among Earth’s rotational dynamics, mantle processes, and surface environments can be strongly episodic.

“Big Oil Is the New Big Tobacco” (Remembering the 2012 La Jolla Legal Plan)

They said what they were doing. The fossil-fuel industry, they argued, had copied the tobacco companies’ old trick of manufacturing doubt.

My question is: What is the ‘cancer’ of climate change that we need to focus on?”

A barrel of oil, a ton of coal, and a thousand cubic feet of natural gas are the inputs of modern life. They heat the house in Sheboygan in January. They move us from place to place.

An illustrated infographic comparing big oil to the tobacco industry, titled 'Big Oil is the New Big Tobacco' with references to legal actions against fossil fuel companies, including strategies like 'deceive,' 'delay,' and 'litigate.'

From Master Resource

By Stephen Heins

“Let’s be clear: the frequent comparison of the fossil fuel and tobacco industries is nonsense. Fossil fuels are a valuable energy source that has done yeomen service for humankind.” – James Hansen (below)

At the time, this environmental workshop was not secret. That is the first thing worth saying about the June 2012 meeting at the Martin Johnson House, on the grounds of the Scripps Institution of Oceanography in La Jolla.

On June 14 and 15, the Union of Concerned Scientists and the Climate Accountability Institute brought together about two dozen scientists, lawyers, historians, and public-opinion hands. The workshop was conceived by Naomi Oreskes, then at the University of California–San Diego; Peter C. Frumhoff and Angela Ledford Anderson of the Union of Concerned Scientists; Richard Heede of the Climate Accountability Institute; and Lewis M. Branscomb. Seth Shulman of UCS wrote the summary. In October 2012 they published it under a title that did not bother with code: Establishing Accountability for Climate Change Damages: Lessons from Tobacco Control.

They said what they were doing. The fossil-fuel industry, they argued, had copied the tobacco companies’ old trick of manufacturing doubt. The remedy, they proposed, was to copy the tobacco control campaign in return: find internal documents, build a public story of knowing deception, attach particular damages to particular companies, and take the fight into court.

Oreskes put the assignment in one sentence that still reads like a brief. “When I talk to my students I always say, tobacco causes lung cancer, esophageal cancer, mouth cancer. My question is: What is the ‘cancer’ of climate change that we need to focus on?”

That was the agreed propaganda. Not a slur. A plan, written down.

The report’s own highlights are plain. A breakthrough against tobacco came when internal documents showed the industry had misled the public. Similar documents, the group said, “might” sit in the vaults of fossil-fuel companies and their trade associations. Any corporate talk about climate could certainly be used against them.

They discussed how a forthcoming “carbon majors” analysis could let advocates attribute sea-level rise and other changes to named producers. But, a compelling public narrative was still missing, and litigation, science, and advocacy should reinforce one another.

Stanton Glantz, a veteran of the tobacco document wars, was in the room. So was Sharon Eubanks, who had led the Justice Department’s racketeering case against the cigarette makers. So were trial lawyers and legal scholars, including Mary Christina Wood. The point was not a seminar. The point was they were looking for a transferable methodology to demonize energy.

However, this method had a hole in it the size of a nuclear power plant, and the hole is still there.

A cigarette is a product that harms the person who buys it, sold by companies that spent years denying the harm their own scientists had measured. A barrel of oil, a ton of coal, and a thousand cubic feet of natural gas are the inputs of modern life. They heat the house in Sheboygan in January. They move us from place to place. They move the grain. They make the fertilizer, the steel, the plastic in the hospital equipment. James Hansen, father of the alarm, put the mischaracterization in its place:

Let’s be clear: the frequent comparison of the fossil fuel and tobacco industries is nonsense. Fossil fuels are a valuable energy source that has done yeomen service for humankind.

Treating the seller of that energy as the legal twin of the seller of cigarettes required a story that ignored the difference. The La Jolla group set out to build that story before the attribution paper even existed. Heede’s carbon-majors work came after the meeting that had already decided it would be useful.

What followed tracked the actual memo. The PR came first.

InsideClimate News and the Los Angeles Times, with Columbia Journalism School, published the 2015 investigations that became #ExxonKnew. Rockefeller family philanthropies helped fund the work. New York’s attorney general opened an investigation of the kind the workshop had sketched.

State and city lawsuits followed, many of them filed by the same small circle of firms, pleading public nuisance and consumer fraud, and seeking money for sea walls and adaptation. The Center for Climate Integrity and allied groups kept the public script running.

Oreskes stayed on the case, later co-authoring the 2023 Science paper on Exxon’s old internal projections. Frumhoff and UCS stayed in the briefing business. Heede’s producer-by-producer accounting became a standard exhibit. The “cancer” they settled on was not one disease. It was every flood, fire, and heat wave that could be passed through an attribution study and handed to a plaintiff.

That is the current green propaganda, and it has chief proponents rather than a single author.

The legal wing is the plaintiffs’ bar that lives on these cases, backed by the Center for Climate Integrity and by funders who have been open about wanting industry documents and industry money. The scientific wing is attribution research put to work as exhibit A, with Oreskes as the historian of the indictment.

The advocacy wing runs from the Union of Concerned Scientists through 350.org and the larger climate NGOs, which still frame the problem as a conspiracy of sellers rather than a physics-and-engineering problem of supply. The media wing, led for years by the New York Times, the Guardian, and the specialty climate outlets, treats the La Jolla theory as settled background. The political wing is the attorney general or the city council that files, then poses.

The script has been updated, not replaced. Where La Jolla said “find the documents,” the update says “they knew.” Where La Jolla asked for a cancer, the update supplies a weekly one: this hurricane, this wildfire, this heat dome, with a percentage attached.

Where La Jolla wanted courts to do what legislatures would not, the update keeps filing after federal judges have thrown cases out, and keeps hoping a state jury will do the regulating. The tobacco line is still the prestige analogy. It still does the work of making a complicated energy system sound like a pack of Marlboros.

What the script leaves out is the part a Midwest reader notices first. It leaves out that the same fuels under indictment are why infant mortality fell and why a Wisconsin winter is survivable. It leaves out that the United States has cut emissions while growing, largely by swapping gas for coal and by not shutting the nuclear plants that still run.

It leaves out that China builds coal plants on a scale that makes a San Francisco lawsuit look like a press release. It leaves out the woman in a kitchen in Lagos or rural India whose “transition” is still a wood fire and a bad lung. And it leaves out the price of the remedy on offer: intermittent power, higher bills, and a planning system that treats reliability as a moral failure.

La Jolla was candid about means. The current campaign is candid about villains. Neither has been candid about the product. Energy is not tobacco. A strategy that needs them to be the same thing is a strategy for the courtroom and the headline, not for the energy grid.

The 36 pages from October 2012 are still the best field guide to what followed. Compare them against the lawsuits, the attribution briefs, and the evening news. The plot has not changed. Only the stationery has changed.

Stephen Heins writes commentary at The Word Merchant, where this slightly revised post originally appeared. For other analyses of ‘ExxonKnew’, see Big Oil, Exxon Not Guilty as Charged (a rebuttal in six parts). He can be reached at steve@heins.net.

27,000-Year-Old Mammoth Hunt Unearthed Beneath Future Courthouse in Bohemia

At a construction site for a new courthouse (Justice Palace) in Bukov, a district of Ústí and Labem in northern Bohemia (Czech Republic), archaeologists uncovered a major Late Gravettian site with remains of at least 20 woolly mammoths from around 27,000 years ago.

Upper Palaeolithic (also spelled Upper Paleolithic) is the final subdivision of the Palaeolithic (Old Stone Age), roughly spanning 50,000/45,000 to 12,000/10,000 years ago (ending with the close of the last Ice Age / Pleistocene).

Gravettian culture (roughly 33,000- 22,000 years ago, or ~33- 22 ka cal BP) was a major Upper Palaeolithic tradition of modern humans (Homo sapiens) across much of Europe.
The culture developed and flourished during a period of progressive climatic deterioration within Marine Isotope Stage 3 (MIS 3) that ultimately led into the Last Glacial Maximum (LGM) of MIS 2 (~26.5- 19 ka cal BP).

Archaeologists excavating mammoth remains at a construction site, displaying large tusks and fossilized bones, with construction structures in the background. — AI generated by Meta

At a construction site for a new courthouse (Justice Palace) in Bukov, a district of Ústí nad Labem in northern Bohemia (Czech Republic), archaeologists uncovered a major Late Gravettian site with remains of at least 20 woolly mammoths from around 27,000 years ago.

The discovery began by chance in November 2024 during routine archaeological monitoring of earthworks. Systematic excavations in 2025, involving teams including the Institute of Archaeology in Brno and local heritage institutes, revealed more than 3,500 animal remains across roughly 1,000 square meters (about the size of four tennis courts).

These were sealed in silt. Identification of the mammoths relied mainly on 19 lower jaws plus one isolated tooth. Other Ice Age species present included woolly rhinoceros, horse, reindeer, and hare. Nearly all parts of the mammoth skeletons appeared, but skulls and tusks were scarce.

Cut marks on bones, broken stone points and tools, the mortality profile (mostly sexually mature but still-growing animals aged roughly 13- 27 years, unlikely to die naturally in such numbers) point to repeated human hunting and systematic butchery rather than a natural die- off or random accumulation.

Charcoal from four hearths yielded radiocarbon dates of approximately 28,800- 25,600 years before present. Stone- tool styles confirm the Late Gravettian cultural attribution. Additional finds include red ochre and a pendant made from mammoth ivory, indicating symbolic or cultural activity alongside processing of the carcasses.

This site is notable as a geographic and temporal outlier: comparable Gravettian mammoth -bone deposits are known from Moravia, Lower Austria, and southern Poland, but nothing similar had previously been documented in Bohemia, and later- period examples are rare.

A 2026 study in the Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports details the findings. Construction of the courthouse complex (which will house courts, administrative space, and parking for hundreds of staff) was delayed by the excavation work and is now targeted for completion around May 2028; the building will rise on the site after the archaeological remains have been documented and removed.

It highlights how modern construction can still yield major Paleolithic insights into Ice Age hunter- gatherer life in central Europe.

Overview of Trench 11 archaeological excavation site, featuring soil layers with fossil remains, outline measurements, and analysis markers. — The largest concentration of finds in trench 11 and its surrounding with the marked position of 19 mammoth mandibles. (Photos and GIS: P. Lissek).
A New Late Gravettian Mammoth Bone Deposit in Bukov, Ústí nad Labem, North Bohemia – ScienceDirect

It marks a major shift in human behavior associated primarily with anatomically modern Homo sapiens in Europe, western Asia, and parts of Africa and Siberia.

Key characteristics include:

Technological advances: Blade- based stone tool industries (long, thin flakes), specialized tools (burins, scrapers, points), bone/antler/ivory tools, and early projectile weapons. Cultures are named after type- sites or distinctive tool types (e.g., Aurignacian, Gravettian, Solutrean, Magdalenian).
Symbolic and artistic expression: Widespread cave art (e.g., Lascaux, Chauvet, Altamira), portable art (figurines such as Venus figurines), personal ornaments (beads, pendants), and use of ochre. Evidence of complex social and possibly ritual behavior.
Subsistence and mobility: Highly skilled big- game hunting (including mammoths, reindeer, horses, bison), fishing, and gathering. Seasonal camps, longer- distance raw- material exchange, and denser populations in favorable regions.
Chronology and cultures in Europe (approximate):
- Early Upper Palaeolithic: ~45- 30 ka (Aurignacian dominant).
- Mid: ~30- 22 ka (Gravettian).
- Late: ~22- 12 ka (Solutrean in southwest Europe; Epigravettian elsewhere; then Magdalenian).

The Gravettian culture (roughly 33,000- 22,000 years ago), to which the recently reported Bukov / Ústí and Labem mammoth site in northern Bohemia belongs, is a classic mid- Upper Palaeolithic tradition. It is known for sophisticated hunting of large mammals (including repeated mammoth processing sites), bladelet tools, and early artistic traditions. The ~27,000- year- old dates from the Bohemian hearths and fauna fit squarely in the Late Gravettian.

The period ends with the transition to the Mesolithic as climates warmed, large Ice Age fauna declined, and human societies adapted to forested post- glacial environments.

Schematic section of the site stratigraphy in the central part of the excavated area.
A New Late Gravettian Mammoth Bone Deposit in Bukov, Ústí nad Labem, North Bohemia – ScienceDirect

Gravettian culture (roughly 33,000- 22,000 years ago, or ~33- 22 ka cal BP) was a major Upper Palaeolithic tradition of modern humans (Homo sapiens) across much of Europe.

It is best known for sophisticated blade and bladelet technologies (including distinctive Gravette points), specialized big- game hunting (especially woolly mammoths, reindeer, and horses), portable art (e.g., Venus’s figurines), and evidence of complex social organization, long- distance raw- material transport, and symbolic behavior (ochre use, ornaments).

The culture developed and flourished during a period of progressive climatic deterioration within Marine Isotope Stage 3 (MIS 3) that ultimately led into the Last Glacial Maximum (LGM) of MIS 2 (~26.5- 19 ka cal BP).

Climate Context

The broader period featured repeated, rapid oscillations between colder stadials (Greenland Stadials, GS) and milder interstadials (Greenland Interstadials, GI), recorded in Greenland ice cores, plus occasional Heinrich Events (massive iceberg discharges that caused abrupt cooling and aridity).
Key events overlapping the Gravettian include Heinrich Event 3 (HE3, ~30 ka) near the start of the Middle and Late Gravettian and HE2 (~24 ka) near its end.
Overall trend: steady cooling through late MIS 3, with increasingly severe winters, expanding ice sheets, lower sea levels, and a shift toward open, cold, arid “mammoth- steppe” landscapes (grasses, herbs, and cold- tolerant shrubs rather than dense forest). Summer insolation declined, contributing to harsher conditions.
In central Europe (including the Czech Republic, the Bohemia- Moravia region relevant to the recent Bukov mammoth site), pollen, charcoal, and faunal records indicate open, cool, and relatively arid environments with limited tree cover (mostly cold- tolerant conifers in sheltered spots). Conditions supported productive grasslands that sustained large herds of mammoth, reindeer, and other megafauna, but winters were long and severe, with expanding permafrost in many areas.

Late Gravettian occupations (including sites around 28- 25 ka, such as the Bukov, Ústí nad Labem mammoth- processing site dated ~28.8- 25.6 ka) occurred amid significant climatic instability (e.g., transitions through GS 5.1, GI 4, GS 4, and GI 3).

Climate Impacts on Gravettian People

Climate strongly shaped settlement, technology, mobility, and subsistence:

Subsistence and hunting strategies: Cold, open steppe environments favored large migratory or semi-sedentary herds of mammoths and reindeer. Hunters adapted by targeting specific age classes or seasons (e.g., autumn reindeer hunts for peak fat, hides, and antler). Climatic shifts altered mammoth demography, migration patterns, and local abundance, prompting changes in weaponry (projectile point size and variety) and site placement. Mammoth- bone deposits (as at Bukov and classic Moravian sites like Dolní Věstonice or Milovice) reflect repeated, organized processing of carcasses in productive but fluctuating environments.
Technology and innovation: Some researchers argue that cooling and resource unpredictability helped drive Gravettian lithic innovations, efficient blade and bladelet production, standardized backed points, and highly mobile, modular toolkits suited to long- distance travel and maintenance under harsh conditions.
Settlement and demography: Early- and mid- Gravettian saw relatively dense occupation in favorable river valleys and loess regions of central and eastern Europe. As cooling intensified toward the LGM, populations declined sharply in many areas (some estimates suggest reductions to one-third of earlier levels in parts of Europe). Groups either migrated (southward or to refugia), became more mobile, or experienced local extinctions. Northern and higher- elevation zones became less hospitable; sites cluster in protected valleys or lower altitudes. The Late Gravettian in Bohemia/Moravia represents a geographic and temporal outlier relative to earlier concentrations farther east and south.
Landscape and preservation: Reduced vegetation and landscape instability (erosion during arid phases) affected both living conditions and the archaeological record. Hearths, ochre, and ivory ornaments (as found at Bukov) show continuity of cultural practices even under stress.

After ~22 ka, as the full LGM set in, classic Gravettian traditions largely gave way to regional successors (Solutrean in the southwest, Epigravettian farther east). Some genetic and archaeological lineages persisted in southern refugia and later expanded with post- glacial warming.

In short, the Gravettian represents a successful long- term adaptation to a cooling, increasingly unstable Ice Age world, exploiting the rich but challenging mammoth- steppe ecosystem through technological sophistication, logistical hunting, and cultural complexity, until the most extreme LGM conditions forced major demographic and cultural shifts.

The recent Bohemian find fits this picture well: a Late Gravettian mammoth- hunting and processing locale operating during a phase of climatic variability in a region that was becoming more marginal.

A group of prehistoric humans wearing fur clothing are hunting a woolly mammoth. They are armed with spears and accompanied by a dog. The scene is set in a rugged landscape with animal skulls in the background. — AI generated by Meta

Comparison of the Gravettian with earlier and later Upper Palaeolithic periods in Europe highlights both continuity and major shifts driven by technology, climate, demography, art, and genetics.

The sequence is broadly: Aurignacian (earlier) → Gravettian (mid) → regional successors during and after the Last Glacial Maximum (Solutrean in the southwest, Epigravettian farther east and south) → Magdalenian (later, mainly western and central Europe).

Earlier: Aurignacian (~43,000/42,000- 33,000/30,000 years ago)

Technology: Emphasized blades, carinated scrapers, and distinctive bone and antler points (especially split- base points). Toolkits were versatile but less standardized for composite projectiles than later ones. Organic technology (bone, antler, ivory) was already advanced.
Art and symbolism: Early figurative art, music (bone flutes), and personal ornaments appear (e.g., Lion-Man of Hohlenstein- Stadel, early Venus- like figures, cave art beginnings). Symbolic behavior is well- established but often more individual or site- specific.
Subsistence and settlement: Broad- spectrum hunting of large game in relatively milder MIS 3 conditions. Populations expanded across Europe after modern humans largely replaced Neanderthals. Sites show mobility but somewhat less logistical organization than Gravettian mammoth specialists.
Climate: More interstadial fluctuations within MIS 3; environments still supported mixed forests and steppe in many areas.
Genetics and continuity: Western European Gravettians show genetic continuity with preceding western Aurignacians. Central and southern Gravettians relate more to local earlier groups. The Gravettian represents a technological and cultural reorganization rather than a complete population replacement.

Key differences from Gravettian: Aurignacian toolkits are less focused on backed bladelets and standardized points for projectiles. Gravettian art shifts toward more portable female figurines (Venus types) and widespread ochre use, with greater emphasis on mammoth hunting and long-distance networks. Gravettian develops during progressive cooling.

Later: Solutrean (~24,000/22,000- 19,000/17,000 years ago, mainly southwest Europe- France and Iberia)

Technology: Peak of pressure- flaked lithic craftsmanship with exquisite bifacial leaf- shaped (laurel-leaf) points. Bone and antler tools exist but are generally less diversified than in Aurignacian or Magdalenian. Eyed needles appear, suggesting tailored clothing for extreme cold.
Art and settlement: Continuity of cave art traditions in refugia. Populations contracted into southwestern climatic refugia during the full LGM.
Climate impact: Developed under the harshest LGM conditions (maximum ice extent, extreme cold and aridity). This forced major demographic reduction and geographic restriction compared with the broader Gravettian range.
Genetics: Western Gravettian ancestry largely survived into Solutrean groups in the southwest.

Key differences: Solutrean is more regionally restricted and specialized for extreme cold. Lithic technology is highly refined but narrower in focus; organic technology is less elaborate than later Magdalenian. It acts as a “bottleneck” culture in refugia.

Later: Epigravettian (~24,000/22,000- 12,000/10,000 years ago, mainly Italy, Balkans, eastern and central Europe)

Often viewed archaeologically as a continuation or local development of Gravettian traditions (backed points persist), but genetic evidence shows significant turnover and replacement in southern Europe around the LGM, with north-to-south dispersals of new groups.
Technology continues bladelet and backed- point traditions but adapts regionally. It fills the role of the “late Upper Palaeolithic” east of the Alps where classic Magdalenian is absent or limited.
Climate: Spans the LGM and the subsequent deglaciation and warming.

Later: Magdalenian (~17,000/18,000- 12,000/11,000 years ago, mainly western and central Europe)

Technology: Highly diversified organic tools (harpoons, spear- throwers and atlatls, eyed needles, elaborate bone and antler working). Lithics include blades and some microliths. Greater emphasis on fishing and a wider range of prey as climates improved.
Art: Culmination of Upper Palaeolithic art – spectacular polychrome cave paintings (Lascaux, Altamira), detailed engravings, and portable art. Often more narrative and naturalistic scenes.
Settlement and demography: Population rebound and re- expansion northeastward after the LGM as ice retreated and forests spread. Larger, more semi- sedentary groups in productive river valleys; evidence of higher population densities.
Climate: Post- LGM warming (still cold but improving), transition toward the end of the Pleistocene. Mammoth steppe declined; reindeer and horse remained important.
Genetics: Largely descends from the western Gravettian- Solutrean lineage that survived in southwestern refugia, then expanded. Later (~14 ka) partially replaced by southern (“Villabruna-related”) ancestry linked to Epigravettian groups.

Key differences from Gravettian: Magdalenian shows greater organic technological elaboration, artistic peak, and demographic expansion into newly available northern territories. Hunting shifts away from the classic mammoth focus of many Gravettian sites as megafauna declined. It represents a post- glacial “golden age” of Upper Palaeolithic complexity in the west.

Broader Patterns

Aspect	Aurignacian (earlier)	Gravettian	Solutrean / Epigravettian (LGM)	Magdalenian (later)
Climate	Milder MIS 3 fluctuations	Progressive cooling to LGM	Full LGM extremes	Post- LGM warming
Range	Broad Europe	Pan- European	Restricted (SW or E/S)	Western and central expansion
Key tech	Blades, split- base points	Backed points, bladelets, mammoth focus	Leaf points (Solutrean) or continued backed (Epigravettian)	Harpoons, needles, diversified organics
Art	Early figurative, flutes	Venus figurines, ochre	Continuity in refugia	Peak cave & portable art
Demography	Expansion	Dense then declining	Bottleneck and refugia	Rebound & expansion
Genetics	Foundational	Regional continuity with Aurignacian	SW survival (Solutrean); turnover in south (Epigravettian)	SW Gravettian-Solutrean and later southern input

The Gravettian sits at a pivotal midpoint: building on Aurignacian foundations with more specialized hunting and symbolic systems suited to cooling climates, then giving way (through both cultural evolution and population shifts) to LGM adaptations and the post- glacial florescence of the Magdalenian.

The Bohemian Late Gravettian mammoth site (~27 ka) falls near the end of this tradition, just before the most severe LGM conditions forced major contractions and regional divergences.

A group of prehistoric hunters, dressed in fur clothing, pursues a mammoth in a snowy landscape, with a fierce snowstorm in the background. — AI generated by Meta

When All Else Fails, Start a War: Europe’s Descent From Net Zero Folly to Military Mobilization

The result, as the shuttered ammonia lines at Ludwigshafen attest, is not the low-carbon prosperity promised by the architects of the European Green Deal but a slow, voluntary surrender of manufacturing capacity. This has migrated to jurisdictions unburdened by carbon pricing, renewables mandates and the regulatory thicket of the EU’s “sustainability disclosure” regime.

The EU’s Defence Readiness Roadmap 2030 projects high-intensity war as a near-term likelihood. It sets 2030 as the date by which Europe must be able to deter Russian aggression.

A satirical illustration depicting the transition from environmental promises to military mobilization. It features a road sign indicating 'Net Zero,' various environmental targets, military vehicles, and a distressed character contemplating rising energy bills, contrasting climate action and military expenditure.

From Tilak´s Substack

By Tilak Doshi

A smiling man in sunglasses wearing a black suit, casually holding a cigarette, with a red background. — *Dr. Strangelove: Source: https://displate.com/displate/7660522*

In September last year, images from the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit in Tianjin — Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping and Narendra Modi smiling, arms linked — told Brussels and London more than any communiqué about where two decades of energy self-harm had led. On the sidelines, Gazprom and CNPC signed a “memorandum” on the Power of Siberia 2 pipeline through Mongolia. This was a political signal, not a priced gas contract. I set out at the time, in How the West Snookered Itself in Energy Geopolitics, how the obsession with Net Zero had handed Moscow and Beijing a strategic gift while leaving Germany, once Europe’s industrial powerhouse, prostrate.

A year on, the diagnosis has not changed. What has changed is the prescription. Having wrecked their own economies through the fantasy of decarbonisation, the EU and UK’s governing liberal-left establishment — stagnant, unpopular, and facing the electoral rise of AfD in Germany and Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National in France — has settled on a time-honoured remedy for domestic failure: warnings of the threat of war.

The Wages of Self-Sabotage

I have written at length about the irrationality of EU and UK energy policy (here and here among others). America pursued a radically different trajectory during President Trump’s second term. Washington’s November 2025 National Security Strategy openly abandoned the pretence that Europe remains a serious partner. It described a continent that has traded its classical liberal inheritance — free speech, open inquiry, democratic accountability — for the utopian triad of Net Zero, mass immigration (consisting largely of young unskilled men from the Middle East, North Africa and West and South Asia) and an ever-expanding regulatory, growth-killing state.

Mario Draghi’s competitiveness report found that the EU’s total real output, measured at 2015 prices, had slipped from a little more than 15% below the United States in 2002 to 30% below by 2023. At market exchange rates the EU’s share of world GDP has fallen from roughly 29% in 1980 to about 17% in 2024. China’s surged over the same span while the US maintained it leading position.

Line graph comparing the share of global GDP from 1990 to 2024 for the European Union, United States, and China, highlighting key events like the Global Financial Crisis and COVID-19.

Chemical and industrial firms have voted with their capital: for example, BASF’s Ludwigshafen closures of its ammonia and fertiliser lines, and the relocation of production to the United States and Asia. This reflects the industrial logic of policy-inflated energy costs working itself out. Heavy and energy-intensive industries, from automotive to steelmaking and oil refineries, have moved to where energy is cheap and abundant — to the US and above all to China, now the world’s dominant industrial power by far. The US under President Trump is increasingly incentivising a “reshoring” of industrial capacity. To give momentum to the reshoring of industry, America has ditched the Paris Agreement and, as of January this year, formally withdrew America from the IPCC and UNFCCC along with dozens of other multilateral bodies judged contrary to American interests.

None of this need have happened. Europe possessed impressive endowments — a skilled workforce, deep capital markets, an educated population, robust economic growth arising out of the ashes of World War II. It could and did ably compete with the United States and China. What it lacked was the political will to resist a green industrial policy conceived by activists and bureaucrats rather than engineers and economists.

In Britain that policy has a name and a face: former Energy Secretary (and now Foreign Minister) Ed Miliband, whose economic and energy illiteracy has been widely remarked upon. The result, as the shuttered ammonia lines at Ludwigshafen attest, is not the low-carbon prosperity promised by the architects of the European Green Deal but a slow, voluntary surrender of manufacturing capacity. This has migrated to jurisdictions unburdened by carbon pricing, renewables mandates and the regulatory thicket of the EU’s “sustainability disclosure” regime.

From Climate Alarmism to War Fever

The climate consensus that sustained two decades of European energy policies is collapsing under its own contradictions. US support for the globalist green agenda is gone, the IPCC’s alarmist scenario modelling has been retracted and ESG finance is in retreat. The EU and UK political establishments that built their legitimacy on the alarmist climate consensus need a new organising threat. The rhetoric of imminent war with Russia, barely audible eighteen months ago, has become the dominant note of European public life, displacing the language of climate emergency that had until recently served much the same unifying, mobilising function.

The pattern will be familiar to students of political history: a governing class unable or unwilling to reverse policies that have visibly impoverished its own population reaches for an external threat large enough to make domestic failure feel secondary. What is unusual about the present European episode is the speed of the transition and the transparency of the motive. One season the enemy is carbon dioxide; the next, it is Vladimir Putin. The rhetorical machinery — moral urgency, the demand for public sacrifice, the casting of suspicion on dissenters — barely needs repackaging.

Manufacturing an Enemy

The EU’s Defence Readiness Roadmap 2030 projects high-intensity war as a near-term likelihood. It sets 2030 as the date by which Europe must be able to deter Russian aggression. Military planning deadlines of this kind are how governments convince their citizens to prepare for war. NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte has said Russia could be “ready” to use military force by 2030. Even while insisting President Putin “is in a bad place” and is “not winning the war” in Ukraine, he simultaneously urges NATO members toward heightened readiness against a Russian attack. This characterization of Russia as both weak and a dangerous threat is an odd combination of confidence and alarm that only makes sense as political theatre.

Britain’s Defence Secretary, Wes Streeting, has told households to keep cash, bottled water and tinned food at home, warning that the country faces a “greater risk of war” with Russia than at any point in his lifetime. Poland’s Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski told reporters that he keeps rice, a hand pump and home-made preserves against the day Russia attacks. Germany’s Bundeswehr has gamed out scenarios in which up to 1,000 wounded soldiers a day would arrive from a NATO-Russia front. It is reopening a Cold War-era underground medical bunker in Ulm. The Somerset squire Jacob Rees-Mogg has taken to informing viewers that in the next few years the country may face a war, and that people may have to die to save it, as they did in the world wars. Unsurprisingly, this invitation to send other people’s sons to someone else’s war declared by the British government was met with disgust. More remarkable still was the television exchange in which former Labour adviser Paul Richards proposed that Britain would need to “lock a few people up”, namely, “pro-Russian voices” who doubt the threat is real. This is the language not of deterrence but of pre-emptive mobilisation of opinion, a rehearsal for wartime censorship before a single shot on NATO soil has been fired.

Sergei Lavrov’s rejoinder at the UN General Assembly last month was bald and direct. Russia’s calls for calm, he told reporters in New York, were being met by a European arms build-up that risked becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy — investment in weapons production that, sooner or later, risk nuclear war. He dismissed talk of a planned Russian assault on Europe as nonsense, and posed the obvious question that Western commentary studiously avoids: why would a Russia, a “full-spectrum commodity superpower” spanning eleven time zones, covet territory in a culturally exhausted, economically stagnant Western Europe bereft of natural resources?

The Ministry of Truth Comes to Britain and Brussels

The war rhetoric has been accompanied, entirely predictably, by a parallel tightening of the permissible bounds of debate. Prime Minister Andy Burnham used his address to the UN General Assembly this September to announce a new “National Centre for Information Defence”. He will task this quango with detecting and disrupting “hostile information attacks” working alongside intelligence agencies and social media platforms to police what counts as a “distorted and untrue narrative about Britain”.

Brussels, meanwhile, presses ahead with an EU-wide digital age-verification and identity wallet regime that, whatever its stated purpose, builds the infrastructure through which online access is conditioned on identity disclosure. This creeping authoritarianism, with profound irony, has led the EU and UK to increasingly resemble the late Soviet Union in institutional architecture, ideological rigidity and lack of free-speech protections. Britain’s own Ministry of Truth apparatus of government, police and media monitoring reflects a government obsessed with suppressing anti-immigration sentiment on social media.

None of this is coincidental. Vice President JD Vance in his seismic speech last year told the assembled dignitaries of the Munich Security Conference that the threat he worried about most vis-à-vis Europe was neither Russia nor China but the retreat of European elites from their own foundational liberal values. These include the suppression of dissent and the restriction of speech deemed unhelpful to the official line, and the importation, without public consent, of mass immigration of mostly young men from the Middle East, Africa and West and South Asia that is steadily replacing the historic populations of the countries in question. President Trump has made much the same point: that the two most self-destructive policies pursued by the EU and UK establishment are green energy fanaticism and open-borders migration. He wants none of it for an America grounded in Christian values, the Bill of Rights and Enlightenment constitutionalism.

Whose War, Exactly?

The final irony deserves stating plainly. The European establishment’s newfound zeal for confronting Russia has been consistently deployed to frustrate any diplomatic off-ramp. When Ukrainian and Russian negotiators reached the outlines of a framework agreement in Istanbul in the spring of 2022, Boris Johnson’s unscheduled visit to Kyiv days later is remembered by Ukraine’s own chief negotiator, David Arakhamia, as the moment London counselled Kyiv to “sign nothing… and just fight.” Mr. Johnson, of course, denies exerting decisive pressure but the timeline is not in dispute. Nor is the fact that Ukraine, the supposed frontline democracy in whose name the West is being asked to countenance war with a nuclear power, has held no national election since 2019. A regime installed by a US-led coup in 2014 which displaced an elected government is now asked to stand as the vindication of Western democratic principle. Ukraine’s own reputation for endemic corruption was a persistent feature of independent rankings for years before the war. Western commentary treats any mention of the fact as tantamount to Kremlin sympathy. The moral capture of the debate has become totalizing with the charge of “Putin stooge” being the classic put-down line to all criticism of the NATO-led expansion since 1991, leading Ukraine down the primrose path to catastrophe.

An Old Story, Retold

As the saying goes, when all else fails, start a war. It is difficult to escape the conclusion that this old and cynical political logic — familiar episodes of governing-class failure across history — is precisely what is now in play across Western Europe and Britain. The region’s political elites presided over two decades of self-inflicted energy poverty, deindustrialisation and demographic upheaval. They now face electorates increasingly inclined to reward the populist parties that promise to reverse course. A governing establishment that built its legitimacy on Net Zero and open borders has discovered that a foreign enemy, real or embellished, is a more reliable route to continued power than an honest reckoning with its own record.

Vladimir Putin’s Russia makes an unusually convenient target: distant enough to be safely feared, weak enough (on Mr Rutte’s own telling) to be safely provoked, and useful enough, as an organising threat, to justify the curtailments of speech and dissent that a discredited establishment now finds it needs. Europeans and Britons alike would do well to ask, before this logic runs its course, who exactly is being asked to do the dying, and in whose interest.

This article was first published in RealClearEnergy https://www.realclearenergy.org/articles/2026/10/01/when_all_else_fails_start_a_war_europes_descent_from_net_zero_folly_to_military_mobilization_1209067.html

Dr Tilak K. Doshi is an energy economist and the Daily Sceptic’s Energy Editor. He is a member of the CO2 Coalition and a former (cancelled) contributor to Forbes.

The 2025 Kamchatka Tsunami Kept the Pacific Ringing for Hours — Its Rhythm Could Improve Tsunami Warnings

The 2025 Kamchatka tsunami (from the Mw 8.8 megathrust earthquake on 29 July 2025 off the Kamchatka Peninsula) produced long- lasting, coherent oscillations across the Pacific that persisted for many hours, and analysis of its dominant periods (its “rhythm”) has potential value for improving tsunami warnings.

DART stands for Deep- ocean Assessment and Reporting of Tsunamis. It is a real- time deep- ocean tsunami detection and monitoring network operated primarily by NOAA (U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration), with contributions from other countries.

Infographic detailing the 2025 Kamchatka tsunami, highlighting its magnitude 8.8 earthquake, the long-lasting waves recorded across the Pacific Ocean, and the potential for improved tsunami warnings through the analysis of its persistent rhythm. — AI generated by Grok

On 29 July 2025 (23:24:52 UTC), an Mw 8.8 earthquake ruptured along the Kuril- Kamchatka Trench near Petropavlovsk- Kamchatsky. It generated a trans- Pacific tsunami with local run- ups reaching up to ~19 m near the source (and isolated higher splash values in steep valleys), while far- field waves were generally more moderate than initially feared (often ≤1- 2 m in many places, with some higher local values).

The event reactivated parts of the same margin as the larger 1952 Mw ~9.0 earthquake but with differences in rupture depth and slip distribution that limited the far- field tsunami energy relative to 1952.

A key observational feature was the prolonged “ringing” of the Pacific basin: wave trains continued for many hours (reports of multi- hour to multi- day activity at some coastal and deep- ocean sites due to reflections, refraction, and multi-path arrivals). Deep- ocean DART buoys recorded clear signals that could be analyzed spectrally.

In a numerical modeling and analysis study led by Amin Rashidi with co-authors including Denys Dutykh (and Mohammad Mokhtari), researchers simulated the tsunami using an earthquake source model and compared results to six observed DART waveforms.

The simulations matched arrival times and amplitudes reasonably well. Fourier and wavelet analyses of the records showed a coherent long- period signal in the ~30- 70 min band, with station- specific peaks near 32, 43, and 64 min. These periods relate to the source dimensions and the basin- scale propagation characteristics.

The authors note that identifying such dominant periods supports tsunami hazard assessments for Kamchatka- type megathrust events and highlights the practical value of spectral and period analysis for Pacific warning systems. Knowing the characteristic “rhythm” of the wave train can help refine forecasts of wave heights, arrival of maximum energy (which often comes later than the first wave), and the duration of elevated hazard, complementing traditional amplitude and arrival- time predictions.

Related work on the same event has examined rupture complexity (deeper slip limiting far- field energy), ionospheric and atmospheric signatures detectable via GNSS, SWOT satellite altimetry snapshots, and comparisons with the 1952 tsunami, all contributing to better understanding of source- to- basin effects.

In short, the long- lasting, spectrally coherent oscillations of the 2025 event provide both a validation benchmark for models and a potential operational cue (period content) that warning centers can incorporate to improve the quality and duration of alerts.

Map showing the USGS source model for a magnitude 8.8 earthquake, with slip distribution, and crustal deformation highlighting seafloor changes, alongside a tsunami amplitude map of the North Pacific Ocean. — The July 29, 2025 earthquake and its tsunami. Top left, the rupture model of the US Geological Survey used in our simulation: the fault surface off Kamchatka, cut into patches colored by their slip, with the epicenter (star) and the mechanism of the earthquake. Bottom left, the resulting rise (red) and fall (blue) of the seafloor. Right, the highest tsunami wave computed at every point of the Pacific; the dashed lines join the places that the waves reached at the same hour. Credit: Amin Rashidi, Denys Dutykh and Mohammad Mokhtari

DART stands for Deep- ocean Assessment and Reporting of Tsunamis. It is a real- time deep- ocean tsunami detection and monitoring network operated primarily by NOAA (U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration), with contributions from other countries.

How a DART system works

Each DART station has two main components:

A Bottom Pressure Recorder (BPR) anchored on the seafloor (typically at depths of 1,000- 6,000 m). It measures changes in water pressure caused by the passage of a tsunami with very high sensitivity (down to ~1 cm of sea- surface height change).
A surface buoy moored nearby that communicates with the BPR via acoustic signals and relays the data to shore via satellite (Iridium or GOES).

Operating modes:

Standard mode: Routine low- rate transmissions (e.g., hourly summaries of 15-minute averages) for system health monitoring.
Event mode: Automatically triggered when the BPR detects a pressure change exceeding a threshold (or manually triggered by warning centers). It switches to high-frequency sampling and rapid transmission (15- second or 1- minute data) for several hours.

These deep- ocean measurements are free of coastal amplification and shelf effects, so they provide a clean signal of the tsunami as it propagates across the open ocean.

Network size and coverage

The U.S. operates 39 DART systems, strategically placed mainly in the Pacific, with additional coverage in the Atlantic, Gulf of Mexico, and Caribbean.
Other countries maintain additional stations, bringing the global network to more than 60 systems.
Stations are positioned in regions with a history of generating destructive tsunamis to give the earliest possible detection far from shore.

Data flow in near real time to NOAA’s two Tsunami Warning Centers (Pacific Tsunami Warning Center and National Tsunami Warning Center), where they are used to refine source estimates, update forecast models (e.g., MOST/SIFT), and improve warnings of amplitude, arrival time, and duration.

Role in the 2025 Kamchatka event

In the July 2025 Mw 8.8 Kamchatka tsunami, multiple DART stations (including ones relatively near the source such as 21416) recorded clear signals. These waveforms were central to the Rashidi, Dutykh & Mokhtari (2026) study: the authors compared numerical simulations against six DART records and performed Fourier/wavelet analysis that revealed the coherent 30- 70 min dominant periods (with peaks near 32, 43 and 64 min). Early DART detections also helped constrain rupture extent and improve real- time forecasts during the event.

Current status and modernization

NOAA continues to operate and maintain the array. Equipment modernization (funded in part by recent infrastructure investments) is underway to improve reliability and data availability, with replacements planned through the late 2020s. Historical and real-time data are archived and publicly available through NOAA’s National Data Buoy Center (NDBC) and National Centers for Environmental Information (NCEI).

In short, the DART network is the primary deep- ocean “eyes” of modern tsunami warning systems.

It supplies the critical open- ocean measurements that convert seismic information into quantitative forecasts of what is actually heading toward coastlines.

Map showing six deep-ocean buoys around the epicenter of an earthquake, with labeled buoy identifiers and data on the timing of first waves and highest wave heights. — The six deep-ocean stations of the DART network whose records we compared with our simulation (circles), and the epicenter of the earthquake (star). The table gives, for each station, the time at which the first waves arrived and the height of the highest wave, as recorded and as simulated from the earthquake alone. Credit: Denys Dutykh; coastlines: Natural Earth

Fourier analysis and wavelet analysis are complementary mathematical tools used to study the frequency content (the “rhythm” or dominant periods) of time-series signals such as the sea- level records from DART buoys.

1. Fourier Analysis

Fourier analysis decomposes a signal into a sum of pure sinusoidal waves of different frequencies (or periods).

Core idea: Any reasonably well- behaved time series can be expressed as a combination of sines and cosines of various frequencies, each with its own amplitude and phase.
The result is a power spectrum (or periodogram) that shows how much energy is present at each frequency and period.
In tsunami studies it answers the question: “What are the dominant periods present in the entire record?”

Strengths:

Excellent for identifying the overall dominant periods in a stationary (statistically constant) signal.
Computationally efficient (via the Fast Fourier Transform- FFT).

Limitations:

It loses all time information. You know which periods are strong, but not when they occurred or how they evolved.
It assumes the signal’s statistical properties do not change much over the whole record.

In the 2025 Kamchatka paper, Fourier analysis of the DART records revealed a coherent energy band roughly between 30 and 70 minutes, with clear peaks near 32, 43 and 64 min.

2. Wavelet Analysis

Wavelet analysis is a time-frequency method. It examines the signal with a set of “wavelets”, localized oscillating functions that can be stretched (to capture long periods) or compressed (to capture short periods) and slid along the time axis.

Core idea: Instead of one global spectrum, you obtain a scalogram (or time- frequency map) showing how the strength of each period changes over time.
Common choice for geophysical signals is the Continuous Wavelet Transform (CWT), often using a Morlet wavelet (a complex sinusoid modulated by a Gaussian envelope).

Strengths:

Reveals when particular periods appear, strengthen, or decay.
Handles non- stationary signals (tsunamis are highly non- stationary: the first arrival is different from later reflected or trapped waves).
Useful for tracking the evolution of the wave train as it propagates and interacts with bathymetry.

Limitations:

Slightly more computationally intensive.
There is a trade- off between time resolution and frequency resolution (controlled by the choice of wavelet and scales).

In the same Kamchatka study, the wavelet analysis confirmed that the 30- 70 min energy was coherent and persistent, and showed how the station- specific peaks evolved after the main arrival, information that a pure Fourier spectrum cannot provide.

How they are typically combined for tsunami records

Pre-process the DART time series (remove tides, de- spike, filter if needed).
Apply Fourier analysis → global dominant periods.
Apply wavelet analysis → time- frequency evolution of those periods.
Interpret the results physically (source dimensions, dispersion, reflections, shelf resonances, etc.).

This combination is why the paper could confidently state that the tsunami “generated a coherent 30- 70 min signal” with specific peaks, and why such spectral information is valuable for improving tsunami warnings: knowing the characteristic rhythm helps forecast how long elevated water levels will last and when the largest waves are likely to arrive.

Graph showing sea level measurements from three buoys after an earthquake, detailing the time and height of the first tsunami waves and seismic activity. Buoy 21416 registered a maximum wave height of 85 cm after 27 minutes, Buoy 21414 recorded 26 cm after 97 minutes, and Buoy 21413 noted 8 cm after 144 minutes. — 1 / 1
Sea level recorded at three of the stations, with the tide removed: the nearest to the source (top), one in the middle of the network and the farthest (bottom). Before the tsunami arrives, seismic waves from the earthquake shake the sensors (shaded). The red line marks the arrival of the first tsunami waves. At the nearest station the crest reached 85 centimeters, the second-largest reading in the history of the network. After the first waves, the sea keeps oscillating for many hours. Credit: Denys Dutykh; data: NOAA National Data Buoy Center

Primarily tsunami modeling of the M_w 8.8 Kamchatka Peninsula earthquake on July 29, 2025

An Mw 8.8 megathrust earthquake along the Kuril- Kamchatka Trench near the eastern coast of Petropavlovsk- Kamchatsky, Russia, on 29 July 2025 triggered a Pacific- wide tsunami with a reported maximum wave height of 19 m.

The authors:

Performed numerical modeling of the tsunami.
Analyzed six observed tsunami waveforms recorded at DART (Deep- ocean Assessment and Reporting of Tsunamis) gauges.
Conducted Fourier and wavelet analyses to identify the dominant period range of the tsunami.

Main findings:

Simulated waveforms show a good fit with the recorded sea- level data.
Wavelet, Fourier analysis reveals a coherent 30- 70 min signal, with station- specific peaks at 32, 43, and 64 min across the DART stations.
Comparison of maximum simulated amplitudes and arrival times shows reasonable agreement with observations, supporting the reliability of the earthquake source model used.
The results confirm that Kamchatka megathrust events can generate basin- wide tsunamis carrying coherent long-period energy.
This supports existing tsunami hazard assessments and highlights the value of dominant- period (“rhythm”) analysis for Pacific warning systems.

The long- lasting coherent oscillations (the “Pacific ringing” for many hours) and the characteristic periods are presented as useful diagnostic information that can help refine forecasts of wave- train duration, timing of maximum energy, and overall hazard persistence beyond first- arrival predictions.

The full text is behind a Springer paywall and subscription; only the abstract and some front- matter (figures list, references) is freely visible on the page.

Journal information: Natural Hazards, Volume 122, article 450 (2026)

DOI: 10.1007/s11069-026-08198-3

Published: 14 May 2026

Authors: Amin Rashidi,
Denys Dutykh &
Mohammad Mokhtari

Abstract

An M_w 8.8 megathrust earthquake along the Kuril–Kamchatka Trench near the eastern coast of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, Russia, on July 29, 2025, triggered a tsunami across the Pacific Ocean with a reported maximum wave height of 19 m. In this study, we perform numerical modeling of the tsunami generated by this event and analyze six observed tsunami waveforms recorded at DART tide gauges. Additionally, Fourier and wavelet analyses are conducted on these records to identify the dominant period range of the tsunami. Our simulated waveforms show a good fit with the recorded sea level data. Wavelet–Fourier analysis shows the tsunami generated a coherent 30–70 min signal, with station-specific peaks at 32, 43, and 64 min across the DART stations. The comparison of maximum simulated tsunami wave amplitudes and arrivals shows reasonable agreement with recorded data, implying that the earthquake source model is capable of accurately reproducing the tsunami. These findings confirm that Kamchatka megathrust events can generate basin-wide tsunamis with coherent long-period energy, supporting existing tsunami hazard assessments, and highlighting the value of dominant period analysis for Pacific warning systems.

Green energy mandates meet the Commerce Clause

Pennsylvania’s renewable energy mandate is finally facing a constitutional test. In a lawsuit filed September 3, West Virginia argues that Pennsylvania’s requirement that many qualifying renewable generators be located within the state violates a basic principle of interstate commerce: States cannot rig markets to favor their own businesses. The case highlights a broader problem with renewable energy mandates: their high cost.

Close-up of the text 'We the People' from the Constitution of the United States, highlighting the ornate calligraphy and aged parchment background. — We the People, the beginning of the United States constitution lit by a window light

From CFACT

BY JONATHAN LESSER:

Twenty-eight states and the District of Columbia mandate that electric utilities purchase increasing percentages of their customers’ electricity from specific types of ‘green’ generating resources. Qualifying suppliers are issued renewable energy credits, or RECs, which utilities must purchase. Utilities then pass the costs on to consumers.

Most RECs come from wind and solar generation, but some states, including Pennsylvania, allow other resources, such as waste coal and burning garbage. Moreover, solar RECs are often carved out into their own category, called SRECs.

The rationales for the mandates have spanned everything from fighting climate change and reducing U.S. dependence on foreign oil to promoting economic development and “green” jobs. While none has accomplished those goals, they have all increased electricity costs by forcing electric utilities to purchase increasing quantities of RECs and SRECs. Over the six-year period, 2020–2025, U.S. electric ratepayers paid almost $45 billion more for their electricity. As the mandates increase, so do the annual costs. The economic damage is compounded because higher-cost electricity ripples through the entire U.S. economy, increasing costs for virtually all goods and services.

In their zeal to promote in-state economic development, several mid-Atlantic states, notably Pennsylvania, also require generation owners eligible for RECs to be physically located within their boundaries. That’s problematic for ratepayers and out-of-state suppliers, as a lawsuit West Virginia filed against Pennsylvania points out.

In 2004, when Pennsylvania enacted Act 40, its renewable energy mandate, it contained no restrictions on the physical location of qualifying generators, as long as they were within PJM, the regional grid operator that coordinates generation in 13 states and DC. But in 2017, the state amended Act 40 to restrict qualifying ‘Tier 1’ solar generators and ‘Tier II’ generators to facilities physically located within the state. The amendments made it clear that the purpose was to promote in-state economic development.

The amendments clearly promoted the well-being of in-state renewable energy developers; according to a report prepared by the Pennsylvania Public Utilities Commission, the prices of RECs soared from 22 cents per megawatt-hour (MWh) in 2018 to almost $27 per MWh in 2025, a more than 100-fold increase. In 2025 alone, Pennsylvania ratepayers paid over $700 million for renewable energy credits — about $55 per person.

Courts have long held that, under the Dormant Commerce Clause, states generally cannot discriminate against out-of-state economic interests to benefit in-state ones. By limiting eligibility for renewable energy credits based on physical location and explicitly citing economic development as justification, Pennsylvania has provided West Virginia ample evidence that the law discriminates against interstate commerce.

Moreover, artificially high credit prices have encouraged the development of uneconomic renewable energy, contributing to instability in PJM’s wholesale energy market and, especially, its capacity market, where prices increased by a factor of 10 over the last two years.

Pennsylvania is unlikely to be the only state to face such a challenge. New Jersey, Maryland, Massachusetts, and the District of Columbia, have similar geographic restrictions and may soon face challenges of their own. The Pennsylvania case could mark the beginning of broader scrutiny of state renewable energy mandates that favor in state generation.

With energy affordability a heightened concern, costly renewable energy mandates make little sense, especially when geographic restrictions artificially raise prices even higher. The best solution would be to eliminate these mandates entirely. Failing that, eliminating geographic restrictions such as Pennsylvania’s would be a good first step.

This article originally appeared at RealClear Energy

Ancient Jerusalem’s Climate Crisis: How the City of David Battled Drought and Floods 2,800 Years Ago

Climate has profoundly shaped the City of David (the original core of ancient Jerusalem on the southeastern ridge), primarily through its effects on water availability. The site’s location was chosen around the perennial Gihon Spring, the only reliable local water source in an otherwise semi- arid environment. Fluctuations in rainfall, droughts, and extreme weather over the last 3,000 and more years directly influenced settlement size, fortifications, water engineering, agriculture, and periods of growth or stress.

A dramatic landscape featuring a stormy sky over ancient ruins, with rushing water from Gihon Spring flowing towards Siloam Dam, surrounded by dry, cracked earth and distant hills. — AI generated by Grok

The City of David (Hebrew: ʿĪr Davīd; also known locally in Arabic as Wadi Hilweh) is the archaeological site widely regarded as the original settlement core of ancient Jerusalem during the Bronze and Iron Ages.

It occupies a narrow, elongated ridge (the southeastern hill) immediately south of the Temple Mount, Ophel saddle, west of the Kidron Valley and east of the Tyropoeon Valley. The Gihon Spring, the ancient city’s primary water source, lies on its eastern slope. This location made it defensible and strategically important from the earliest periods of settlement.

According to the Hebrew Bible (e.g., 2 Samuel 5), King David conquered the Jebusite city (often called Zion or Jebus) around 1000 BCE and established it as his capital, renaming or identifying it as the “City of David”.

Later kings, including Solomon, expanded the city northward toward the Temple Mount. The site remained the core of Jerusalem through the Kingdom of Judah until the Babylonian destruction in 586 BCE, and occupation continued into later periods, including the Second Temple era.

Archaeologically, permanent settlement evidence begins in the Early Bronze Age (3rd millennium BCE), with major fortifications appearing in the Middle Bronze Age (around the 18th century BCE) around the Gihon Spring. The site is central to debates about the scale and nature of Jerusalem in the 10th- 9th centuries BCE (the traditional United Monarchy period).

Major Archaeological Features and Discoveries

Gihon Spring fortifications and water systems: Middle Bronze Age walls, towers, and passages protected the spring. Later systems include Warren’s Shaft and Channel II.
Stepped Stone Structure and Large Stone Structure: Massive Iron Age constructions. The Stepped Stone Structure is one of the largest known Iron Age man- made features in Israel (over 20 m high). Eilat Mazar interpreted the adjacent Large Stone Structure as a monumental public building (possibly linked to a royal or administrative complex from the time of David or shortly thereafter). Dating and exact identification remain debated among scholars.
Siloam Tunnel (Hezekiah’s Tunnel) and Pool of Siloam: A famous water tunnel traditionally associated with preparations for the Assyrian siege under Hezekiah (late 8th century BCE), though some evidence suggests earlier origins. The Pool of Siloam and the adjacent stepped street (Pilgrimage Road) were major features in the Second Temple period.
Iron Age city walls and other fortifications: Segments of the mid- slope fortification (Kenyon- Shiloh Wall) from the 8th century BCE and earlier; a massive rock- cut moat and trench separating the City of David ridge from the Ophel and Temple Mount area, used during the Kingdom of Judah period.
Other finds: Bullae (seal impressions), pottery, destruction layers from 586 BCE, a unique First Temple-period ritual structure with rock- hewn rooms (altar, standing stone, oil and wine presses) that may have gone out of use during Hezekiah’s reforms, and extensive Second Temple remains.

Recent radiocarbon studies (sampling organic material from multiple areas) support significant activity already in the 10th century BCE and earlier westward expansion of the city (toward Mount Zion) by the 9th century BCE, refining older chronologies.

The City of David is part of the Jerusalem Walls National Park and a major tourist site operated with visitor centers, guided tours, the Pilgrimage Road, access to the Siloam Tunnel (often by flashlight), and interpretive exhibits. It continues to yield new finds through ongoing salvage and research excavations by the Israel Antiquities Authority, Hebrew University, and other teams.

In short, the City of David is the archaeological heart of ancient Jerusalem- providing the physical evidence for its earliest urban phases, water management, fortifications, and continuous development over millennia- while remaining a focal point for both scholarly debate and public interest in biblical archaeology.

Ancient stone walls and ruins with a domed structure in the background under a blue sky. — *Shake yourself from the dust, rise up, O captive Jerusalem; Loose yourself from the chains around your neck, O captive daughter of Zion. –Isaiah 52:2*
The City of David: The Jerusalem That You Don’t Know

Climate has profoundly shaped the City of David (the original core of ancient Jerusalem on the southeastern ridge), primarily through its effects on water availability. The site’s location was chosen around the perennial Gihon Spring, the only reliable local water source in an otherwise semi- arid environment. Fluctuations in rainfall, droughts, and extreme weather over the last 3,000 and more years directly influenced settlement size, fortifications, water engineering, agriculture, and periods of growth or stress.

Paleoclimate Context for the Southern Levant and Jerusalem

High- resolution proxies, including Dead Sea sediment cores (which act as a regional “rain gauge”), speleothems from nearby caves such as Soreq (recording precipitation via isotopes), pollen records, and solar activity indicators, reveal multi- decadal to multi- centennial climate swings rather than a stable climate.

Key patterns relevant to the last ~3,000 years (roughly Iron Age onward):

A ~150- year arid phase at the end of the Late Bronze Age (around the 13th- 12th centuries BCE) contributed to societal disruptions across the eastern Mediterranean.
Wetter conditions returned in Iron Age I, supporting highland settlement expansion and the rise of early kingdoms.
Iron Age II conditions were generally moderate (closer to modern averages), but with notable variability, including drier intervals and flash- flood events.
Later periods (including Roman, Byzantine, and medieval) also show oscillations, with lower groundwater recharge during cooler and drier epochs (e.g., parts of the Iron Age Cold Epoch and Little Ice Age) and higher recharge in warmer and wetter intervals.

Overall, the region experienced a long- term drying trend through much of the Holocene, punctuated by wetter and drier episodes. Climate alone rarely caused total collapse; societies often adapted through engineering, agricultural changes, and resilience strategies.

Specific Impacts and Adaptations at the City of David

Water security was existential. Drought reduced spring discharge and crop yields, while intense storms caused erosion, flash floods in the Kidron and Tyropoeon valleys, and soil loss. Archaeological evidence shows repeated investment in water infrastructure as a response:

Late 9th century BCE (ca. 805- 795 BCE), Siloam Dam: Radiocarbon dating of organic material in the mortar pins construction of this massive dam (blocking the Tyropoeon Valley to create/expand the Siloam Pool) to a narrow decade. Climate data from Dead Sea cores show increased aridity (halite layers) plus evidence of torrential rains and floods around 850- 800 BCE. Soreq Cave stalagmites indicate minimum precipitation near 850 BCE. This coincides with the Homeric Grand Solar Minimum (reduced solar activity linked to climate shifts). The dam stored water from the Gihon Spring and captured flood runoff, securing supply during dry spells while managing flood risk. It forms part of a broader late- 9th and early- 8th- century expansion of Jerusalem’s water systems.

Hezekiah’s Tunnel and related works (late 8th century BCE): Traditional association with preparations for the Assyrian siege, but these systems also enhanced resilience to climatic variability by protecting and redirecting the spring’s flow underground.

Broader Iron Age patterns: Radiocarbon- dated sequences from City of David excavations show continuous settlement and architectural development from the 12th- 10th centuries BCE onward, with westward expansion by the 9th century and major fortification after a mid- 8th- century earthquake. Climate variability is one factor among others (political, economic, seismic) influencing these dynamics. Desert- fringe areas felt climatic impacts more strongly than core highland zones like Jerusalem.

Longer- term groundwater and vegetation: Modeling of the Jerusalem region over ~4,500 years shows precipitation- recharge relationships remained relatively linear despite temperature and vegetation changes, though drier decades reduced recharge efficiency. Human impacts (deforestation, overgrazing, terracing, fruit- tree cultivation) further modified the local environment.

Summary of Climate- Human Interaction

In the City of David, climate impacts manifested mainly as water stress and flood risk. Rather than abandonment, the archaeological record documents sophisticated engineering responses, dams, tunnels, pools, and fortifications, that allowed the settlement to grow into a significant urban center. These adaptations highlight both vulnerability (dependence on a single spring and rainfall- dependent agriculture) and ingenuity. Modern parallels exist: the eastern Mediterranean continues to face drying trends and water challenges, making the ancient record relevant for understanding long- term resilience.

Ongoing excavations and multi- proxy climate studies continue to refine these connections, showing that climate was an important but not solitary driver of change at the site.

A detailed model of an ancient city, labeling key locations such as Mount Moriah, Ophel, Palace, Gihon Springs, Central Valley, and Kidron Valley. — The City of David – Jerusalem 101

The Homeric Grand Solar Minimum (also called the Homeric Minimum or Homerian Climate Anomaly) was a prolonged period of unusually low solar activity that began around 800 BCE and lasted roughly 200 years (approximately 2750- 2550 cal BP, with a stronger phase early on).

It is detected through elevated levels of cosmogenic isotopes such as carbon-14 (in tree rings and the atmosphere) and beryllium-10 (in ice cores and lake sediments).

These indicate reduced solar magnetic shielding, allowing more cosmic rays to reach Earth.

The event is sometimes linked to a broader “Hallstatt” solar minimum complex and coincided with a geomagnetic excursion (Etrussia- Sterno).

Climate Effects

In Europe (especially western and central), it is associated with colder, wetter, and windier conditions (the “Homeric Climate Oscillation” or 2.8 ka event).

In the eastern Mediterranean and Levant, regional proxies point to a different response: overall reduced precipitation (aridity), combined with intermittent intense rainstorms that produced flash floods.

Key evidence near Jerusalem includes:

Dead Sea sediment cores showing increased aridity (halite deposition) beginning around 850 BCE, along with graded layers indicating floods.
Soreq Cave speleothems (about 20 km west of Jerusalem) recording minimum precipitation near 850 BCE, followed by a gradual recovery.
Supporting signals from pollen and isotopic data on olive pits indicating shifts in rainfall patterns around 830 BCE.

Connection to the City of David

Researchers directly link this solar- driven climate shift to major water engineering in Jerusalem’s City of David. Precise radiocarbon dating of microscopic organic material (straw and twigs) in the mortar of the Siloam Dam places its construction in a narrow window of 805- 795 BCE.

The dam (a large stone structure that blocked the Tyropoeon Valley) created or expanded the Siloam Pool. It was part of a coordinated system that:

Fortified and protected the Gihon Spring (the city’s main water source).
Redirected spring water through channels into the artificial reservoir.
Captured both spring flow and flood runoff for storage during dry periods while managing destructive flash floods.

This project is attributed to the early Kingdom of Judah, likely under King Jehoash or his successor Amaziah.

It represents sophisticated urban planning to cope with the unpredictable weather (prolonged dry spells punctuated by violent rains) associated with the Homeric Grand Solar Minimum. The scale of the works underscores Jerusalem’s importance and organizational capacity at the time.

In short, the Homeric Grand Solar Minimum provides a climatic backdrop for one of the City of David’s most impressive Iron Age water systems, illustrating how ancient Jerusalem adapted to solar- influenced climate variability through large- scale engineering.

A detailed archaeological map showing the Southeastern Ridge, highlighting the Gihon Spring, Siloam Tunnel, and nearby landmarks. — (A) The study sites. Graphics by Manuel Cimadevilla, Israel Antiquities Authority. (B) The Siloam Dam excavation. Arrows mark the sampling locations. (C) A representative straw fragment embedded in the mortar.
Radiocarbon dating of Jerusalem’s Siloam Dam links climate data and major waterworks | PNAS

Ancient Tibetan Ice Cap Holds Climate Secrets Older Than 100,000 Years

Researchers have confirmed that ancient ice in the high- altitude Guliya Ice Cap (northwestern Tibet) preserves climate records from the last ice age and beyond, making these the oldest ice cores recovered from the region.

The Guliya ice cap (western Kunlun Mountains, northwestern Tibetan Plateau) is a cold- based (polar- type) glacier. Cores to bedrock were recovered in 1992 (GP1992, 308.7 m) and 2015 (GP2015, 309.7 m) on the plateau (~6200 m asl), plus thinner summit cores in 2015. Earlier work suggested ages >110 ka (and possibly much older near the bed based on ³⁶Cl).

Aerial view of a snowy mountainous landscape with a drilling rig and several ice structures in the foreground, under a clear blue sky. — AI generated by Grok

The study, led by Lonnie Thompson (professor of earth sciences and senior research scientist at Ohio State’s Byrd Polar and Climate Research Center) and published in Science Advances, compared ice cores drilled from the Guliya Plateau in 1992 and 2015. Both showed matching oxygen isotope patterns, confirming that the environmental signals are consistent and reproducible over decades.

To date the ice, the team used radioactive isotopes beryllium-10 and chlorine-36. These marked the Laschamp Geomagnetic Excursion (a major shift in Earth’s magnetic field more than 41,000 years ago). Combined with oxygen- isotope records from nearby Tibetan cave deposits, the data indicate the Guliya record extends well over 128,000 years (and more than 100,000 years overall).

This is significant because, outside the polar regions, it is the only mountaintop ice core that reaches so far back. For comparison, cores from Peru’s Nevado Huascarán go back only a bit over 30,000 years. Earlier work had suggested Guliya’s record ended in the Mid- Holocene (starting ~12,000 years ago), but the new evidence shows some ice is much older and that portions of the ice cap survived the last ice age.

Accurate timescales like this help answer broader questions about when major glaciations began and ended and how natural ice loss processes worked. The team plans further analyses of the cores for additional climate and environmental indicators. The research was supported by the U.S. National Science Foundation; Ohio State co- authors include Mary Davis and Ellen Mosley- Thompson, with international collaborators from Switzerland and China.

Sources: Ohio State News (Tatyana Woodall) and the Byrd Polar and Climate Research Center announcement (both dated around September 30- October 1, 2026).

Map showing the Guliya ice cap and surrounding geographical features, with arrows indicating monsoon wind patterns and detailed inset of the Chongge ice cap. — Geographic setting of the GIC. Credit: *Science Advances* (2026). DOI: 10.1126/sciadv.aeh2912

Additional evidence supports a timescale exceeding 100,000 years for the Guliya ice cap, Tibetan Plateau

The oxygen isotope (δ¹⁸O_ice) record from a ~310 m core drilled on the Guliya ice cap (GIC) in 2015 (GP2015) is reproducible with a nearby ~309 m core from 1992. The timescale for a composite of the GIC cores was constructed using ¹⁰Be and ³⁶Cl to identify the ~41 ka Laschamp geomagnetic excursion, plus a match to a δ¹⁸O_atm- dated core from the Guliya Summit. Comparison of the GIC δ¹⁸O_ice with an Asian Monsoon speleothem δ¹⁸O record supports a timescale back to 128 ka, the oldest known so far from Tibet. The δ¹⁸O_ice record shows orbital- scale variations in phase with June insolation and polar ice- core stable-isotope records through the last glacial cycle (with a phase reversal after the deglaciation that requires further study). Radiocarbon- dated ice from the glacier margin confirms glacial- stage ice in the GIC. The ³⁶Cl/¹⁰Be ratios in GP2015 confirm that GIC ice is older than 100 ka.

Key background and context

Recent studies of nearby cores (Chongce ice cap and a 2021 Guliya Plateau core drilled close to the earlier sites) produced much younger (Holocene or Late Holocene) ages, challenging the long timescale. This paper extends and independently supports the longer chronology for the 1992 and 2015 plateau cores.

Main results and methods

Reproducibility: High-resolution δ¹⁸O_ice profiles from GP1992 and GP2015 match closely by depth and can be stratigraphically aligned, allowing transfer of the timescale.
Timescale construction (to 128 ka):
- ¹⁰Be and ³⁶Cl peaks at ~187 m mark the Laschamp excursion (~41 ka).
- Matching of the upper part to the δ¹⁸O_atm- and ¹⁴C- dated Guliya Summit composite.
- Further extension by matching the δ¹⁸O_ice record (pre- 41 ka) to the continuous, ²³⁰Th-dated Southeast Asian Monsoon speleothem δ¹⁸O composite from SE China caves.
Supporting evidence of pre- Holocene ice: Two ¹⁴C- WIOC samples from ice ~50 cm above bedrock at the southeastern margin of the GIC yielded mean calibrated ages of ~24.1 ka and ~24.8 ka (last glacial stage).
Cosmogenic isotopes: Combined ³⁶Cl (from both cores) and ¹⁰Be (GP2015) data, placed on the new timescale, show the Laschamp peak and a possible Mono Lake excursion (~33 ka). Nuclear-weapons- testing ³⁶Cl is confined to the near- surface. The ³⁶Cl/¹⁰Be ratio decreases with depth in a manner consistent with radioactive decay and ages >100 ka (effective half-life ~384 kyr under standard assumptions). Establishing a precise timescale beyond 128 ka remains challenging due to possible post- depositional mobility or production- rate issues near the bed.

Climatic implications (discussion highlights)

The composite GP1992/2015 δ¹⁸O_ice and deuterium-excess records track orbital (insolation) and millennial- scale features seen in polar ice cores and (with the expected antiphase relationship) Asian monsoon speleothems through much of the last glacial cycle. A phase shift relative to the speleothem records occurs around the deglaciation (~18- 19 ka), possibly linked to changing atmospheric circulation (westerlies vs. Asian monsoon) and moisture sources as Northern Hemisphere ice sheets retreated. Cooler conditions around the Laschamp excursion are consistent with modeled climate responses to geomagnetic field weakening.

The paper addresses prior challenges to the long timescale and concludes that the Guliya plateau cores preserve a continuous climate archive spanning the last glacial cycle and beyond 100 ka, unique among non- polar, high- elevation ice cores. Future work is suggested to refine ages deeper than 128 ka and to investigate the post- deglaciation isotopic phase change.

Wrong, TIME, One Nor’easter Isn’t Proof of Climate Change

There is no evidence that the recent nor’easter was at all unusual or represents a long- term climate change induced shift in the occurrence or strength of such storms.

Illustration depicting a severe nor'easter storm with flooded streets and road closures, emphasizing the impact of climate change on weather patterns. The scene includes dialogue between two characters discussing climate change and referencing historical storms, alongside a chart showing long-term records of storm intensity.

From ClimateRealism

By Anthony Watts

Satellite image showing a storm system off the East Coast, illustrating the impact of climate change on Nor'easters.

In their article How Does Climate Change Impact Nor’easters? TIME magazine claims that a nor’easter which struck the northeastern United States in mid-September illustrates how climate change is making powerful storms more intense. That’s false. There is no evidence that the recent nor’easter was at all unusual or represents a long-term climate change induced shift in the occurrence or strength of such storms. TIME’s claims go well beyond what the evidence can establish about an individual storm and lacks support in data and meteorological records.

“While September nor’easters aren’t unheard of, they are uncommon,” states TIME. “And as the climate warms, research suggests that the strongest storms are also going to become more intense.” TIME then uses speculative sleight of hand to link the recent storm to increasing number of billion-dollar disasters.

The historical record and the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) show substantial natural variability in extratropical storms and low confidence in observed trends in their intensity, making TIME’s attempt to turn a single weather event into a climate-change story scientifically unjustified.

The basic problem with TIME’s article is right there in its premise. A nor’easter is a weather event. Climate is the statistical behavior of weather measured over decades.

As Climate at a Glance has explained, individual hurricanes, floods, droughts, heat waves, cold snaps, and storms are weather. Long-term changes in their frequency or intensity can potentially constitute evidence of climate change, but one storm cannot establish such a trend. See the graphic below from the European Space Agency to visualize this.

Infographic comparing weather and climate, highlighting that weather refers to short-term atmospheric changes while climate describes average conditions over 30 years or more. Includes visuals of Earth, daily weather icons, and a graph showing climate change data.

That distinction is fundamental to climate science, yet it increasingly disappears when a dramatic weather event presents an opportunity for a climate headline.

TIME reports that this particular nor’easter produced heavy rain, flooding, winds exceeding 60 mph, and coastal flooding in New Jersey. Those facts establish that a strong storm occurred. They do not establish why it occurred, much less demonstrate that human greenhouse gas emissions made it unusually powerful.

TIME even acknowledges that nor’easters are nothing new. The article notes famous storms including the New England Blizzard of 1978, the 1993 “Superstorm,” and the severe Boston snowstorms of 2015. Let’s not forget the Great Blizzard of 1888. Nor’easters are a normal feature of East Coast weather and have battered the region throughout its recorded history.

More revealing is an admission buried halfway through the article: “Scientists are still not 100 percent clear about how nor’easters are changing due to climate change.”

That should have been the beginning of TIME’s analysis, not a caveat quickly brushed aside before returning to claims of worsening storms.

The IPCC’s Sixth Assessment Report on climate change provides no findings that extreme weather events, such as nor’easters, are increasing in number of intensity.

Nor’easters are extratropical cyclones, and Chapter 11 of IPCC AR6 specifically examines these storms. The IPCC reports “low confidence in past changes of maximum wind speeds and other measures of dynamical intensity of extratropical cyclones.”

This is true for many weather events, as seen in the table below.

Table listing various weather events with columns for detection and attribution status, all marked as 'No'. — *Table. Summary table showing lack of weather event attribution from Chapter 11 of the IPCC AR6 report.*

The IPCC also finds that there is low confidence in past-century trends in the number and intensity of the strongest Northern Hemisphere extratropical cyclones because of large year-to-year and decadal variability and limitations in the historical data.

Even more directly, the IPCC states that studies attributing changes in the most extreme extratropical cyclones are not available and that there is “overall low confidence” in attributing changes in individual extreme extratropical cyclone events to human influence.

Somehow, TIME missed the IPCC’s conclusion on this topic.

TIME blurs those two very different propositions.

Dollar losses are not a physical measurement of storm intensity. A storm striking today’s heavily developed East Coast encounters vastly more homes, businesses, roads, vehicles, utilities, and expensive infrastructure than the same storm would have encountered decades ago. Inflation alone also increases nominal losses. Increasing billion-dollar disaster counts do not, therefore, demonstrate that storms have become meteorologically more severe.

Climate Realism has repeatedly addressed this error in media reporting: increasing economic exposure and wealth can increase disaster losses even without a corresponding increase in the underlying weather hazard.

There is an additional irony in TIME publishing this story in September 2026.

While TIME cites a single nor’easter to suggest that storms are intensifying, the Atlantic tropical basin has been experiencing an extraordinary lack of hurricanes.

As of September 21, the Atlantic had produced six named tropical storms but not a single hurricane. It was the first time since 1914, 112 years ago, that the basin had gone that far into the official Hurricane season without producing one. The climatological peak of Atlantic hurricane activity occurs around September 10, so this historic quiet occurred during what normally is the busiest part of the season.

NOAA National Hurricane Center records confirm the unusually weak activity, with the storms through mid-September remaining below hurricane strength. A strengthening El Niño and associated wind shear have been identified as important factors suppressing Atlantic hurricane development this year.

Does that remarkably quiet hurricane season prove climate change has stopped affecting storms? Of course not. It’s weather. And that is precisely the point.

A quiet Atlantic hurricane season cannot disprove long-term climate change, just as one powerful September nor’easter cannot prove that climate change is making storms worse. Climate trends require decades of data, not whichever storm happens to dominate this week’s headlines.

Indeed, TIME’s own expert undermines the article’s framing. Professor Mathew Barlow acknowledges that researchers are “not seeing any changes in the overall average” number of nor’easters and that the total number of storms “might actually be going down a little bit.”

That admission deserves considerably more attention than TIME gives it.

TIME starts with a storm, asks how climate change made it worse, and then assembles quotations supporting that premise while relegating contradictory evidence to a few sentences. That’s not how climate science is supposed to work. Nor is it how science journalism should work.

A nor’easter struck the Northeast. It produced heavy rain, strong winds, flooding, and disruption, all facts making the storm worthy of significant news coverage. But, there is no evidence whatsoever that climate change had any influence on the recent nor’easter. Since neither data nor historical records suggest any significant changes in the formation or behavior or nor’easters, TIME should make no such connection to climate change. The story goes beyond the news to disaster story telling. Based on this report, perhaps it would be more accurate to file TIME on the fiction rack at bookstores and newsstands.

Climate- Science.press

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