Indeed, the impact on coastal cities in developed countries may be enormous. The Urban Institute, a non­partisan think tank, is com­pleting a study for the En­vironmental Protection Agency on what a three-foot sea level rise would do to Mi­ami. Miami is particularly vulnerable. Not only is it a coastal city, but it is nearly surrounded by water, with the Atlantic to the east, the Everglades to the west, and porous limestone beneath— "one of the most permeable aquifers in the world," says William Hyman, a senior re­ search associate at the insti­tute. "The aquifer in Miami is so porous that you'd actu­ally have to build a dike down one hundred fifty feet beneath the surface to keep water from welling up." In an unusually severe storm nearby Miami Beach would be swept by a wall of water up to 16 feet above the cur­rent sea level.

Image courtesy of US Army Corps of Engineers

Storms are an even greater danger to Galveston, which Leatherman has studied ex­tensively. Given just a cou­ple of feet in sea-level rise, a moderately bad hurricane, of the type that occurs about once every ten years, would have the destructive impact of the type of storm that oc­curs once a century. And Galveston is typical of a whole range of resort areas on the eastern and Gulf coasts, such as Atlantic City, New Jersey ("almost the whole New Jersey coast, re­ally," says Leatherman); Ocean City, Maryland; and Myrtle Beach, South Caro­lina. "The point is, all these cities have been built on low-lying sandy barrier is­lands, mostly with eleva­tions no higher than ten feet above sea level," Leather­man says. "Just a small rise in sea level will result in a lot of complications."

Even as cities become more vulnerable to moderate storms, the intensity of hur­ricanes may increase dra­matically, says Kerry Eman­uel, a meteorologist at MIT. Hurricane intensity is linked to the temperature of the sea surface, Emanuel explains. According to his models, if the sea warms to predicted levels, the most intense hurricanes will be 40 to 50 per­cent more severe than the most intense hurricanes of the past 50 years.




James Titus, director of the Environmental Protec­tion Agency's Sea Level Rise Project, says communities will have two choices: build walls or get out of the way. For cities such as New York or Boston the answer may well he to build walls. But for most other coastal regions, picking up and moving may work out better. One of the first examples of a regional government making a regu­lation based on the green­house effect took place in Maine last year. The state approved regulations allow­ing coastal development with the understanding that if sea level rises enough to inundate a property, the property will revert to na­ture, with the owner footing the bill for dismantling or moving structures.

Another worldwide con­sequence of global warming is increased precipitation: warmer air will mean more evaporation of ocean water, more clouds, and an overall rise in rain and snow of be­tween 5 and 7 percent. But it won't be evenly distrib­uted. One climate model at Princeton University's Geo­ physical Fluid Dynamics Laboratory predicts that cen­tral India will have doubled precipitation, while the cen­ters of continents at middle latitudes--the midwestern United States, for example— will actually have much drier summers than they have now (this summer's drought could, in other words, be a foretaste). Some and areas, including south­ern California and Morocco, will have drier winters; and winters are when such areas get most of their precipita­tion. Moreover, the effect may be self-perpetuating: drier soil, says Syukuro Manabe, the climatologist who developed the model, leads to even hotter air.

The changes could be po­litical dynamite for nations that already argue over water resources. A prime ex­ample is Egypt and Sudan, both of which draw their lifeblood from the north- flowing Nile. Sudan has been trying to divert a bigger share of the river's water; but downstream, Egypt is experiencing one of Africa's fastest population explo­sions and will need every drop of water it can get. A string of droughts in the Su­dan could make the conflict far worse. The same situ­ation occurs in many other parts of the world.

Not all the tensions will be international. Within na­tions, local effects of global warming will cause interne­cine fights for increasingly scarce water. In the United States, for example, western states have long argued over who owns what fraction of the water in such rivers as the Colorado. In California 42 percent of the water comes from the Sacramento and San Joaquin river ba­sins, which are fed by runoff from the Sierra Nevada and other mountain ranges. Most of the water falls as snow in the winter, which melts in the spring to feed the rivers, reservoirs, and subterranean aquifers. The state's normal strategy for water management calls for keeping the reservoirs low in winter, to provide protection against floods, and keeping them as high as possible in summer, to ensure an ade­quate supply for the giant farming operations in the Central Valley (one of the most productive agricultural regions in the world) and for arid southern California.

Peter Gleick of the Pacific Institute for Studies in De­velopment, Environment and Security, in Berkeley, California, has devised a widely praised model that predicts a dramatic disrup­tion of the state's water sup­ply in the event of global warming, even if total precipitation remains un­changed. It focuses on the Sacramento River basin, which alone provides 30 per­cent of the state's water and almost all the water for agri­culture in the Central Valley.

According to the model, higher temperatures will mean that what falls in win­ter will increasingly be rain, not snow, and that more of it will run off right away. California may get the same amount of total annual run­off, but the water-distribu­tion system won't be able to deal with it. "California will get the worst of all possible worlds—more flooding in the winter, less available water in the summer," Gleick says. "This will re­verberate throughout the state." San Francisco Bay will feel a secondary effect. As freshwater supplies shrink in the summer, seawater, which has already infiltrated freshwater aqui­fers beneath the low-lying Sacramento Delta, will con­tinue its push inland. Rising sea level will just compound the effect.

Food is another crucial re­source that will be affected by the global green­house. Taken by itself, a rise in atmospheric carbon diox­ide might not be so bad. For many crops more carbon di­oxide means a rise in the rate of photosynthesis and, there­fore, in growth; and with in­creased carbon dioxide some plants' use of water is more efficient, according to stud­ies done in conventional glass greenhouses. Also, as the planet gets warmer, crops might be cultivated farther north. But as usual, things are not so simple. A temperature rise of only 3.5 degrees in the tropics could reduce rice production by more than 10 percent.