Wildfires in January? Here's why California wildfire season is worse

As climate change warms the planet, wildfires have become so unpredictable and extreme that new words were invented: firenado, gigafire, fire siege — even fire pandemic. California has 78

more annual “fire days” — when conditions are ripe for fires to spark — than 50 years ago. When is California’s wildfire season? With recurring droughts, It is now year-round.

Nothing is as it was. Where are the worst California wildfires? All over. Whatever NIMBYism that gave comfort to some Californians — never having a fire in their community before — no longer

applies to most areas. 

Los Angeles County is the latest victim. At least 24 people have died in the Palisades Fire along the coast in Los Angeles and the Eaton Fire in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains.

All of Southern California is experiencing drought conditions, with close to zero rainfall since May, and severe Santa Ana winds.

Southern California’s coastal fires typically have to be driven by desert winds. But no longer. Vegetation along the usually moist coast is often so parched that it doesn’t need winds to fan

wildfires. 

Also, in the far north, California’s so-called “asbestos forests” have lost their immunity. Massive fires tore through dense, moist rainforests where climate change chased away the region’s

protective layer of fog and mist. 

What causes California’s wildfires? Arson and power lines are the major triggers. A 2022 audit showed that utilities aren’t doing enough to prevent fires. But lightning-sparked fires, like

the one that burned Big Basin park, are a fairly recent trend. Unpredictable and hugely powerful lightning storms — tens of thousands of strikes in a span of days — bombard vulnerable

landscapes. Scientists say to expect more lightning as the planet warms. And, aided and abetted by drought, more than 163 million trees have been killed by drought or insects.

The job of battling these larger, more stubborn California wildfires has become more costly, complicated, fearsome and deadly, straining the state’s already overworked firefighters. Insurers

keep raising premiums and canceling policies, even if homes have been fire-hardened.

California’s landscape evolved with fire. What remains is for its inhabitants to adapt to the new reality. And that requires yet another new term: Welcome to the “Pyrocene,” coined by fire

scientist Stephen J.Pyne. The age of fire.

Wildfires took scores of lives in California in 2018, the deadliest fire year in the state’s recent history. Most of those deaths were related to the blaze that destroyed the Northern

California town of Paradise. The numbers include people responding to the fires. Since 2017 and 2018, deaths have declined.

California’s bigger, more frequent fires are endangering more residents. Forest fires are increasingly a misnomer as flames race across landscapes dotted with subdivisions and communities

that have been carved out where trees once stood.

The trend of more Californians living in harm’s way complicates firefighting efforts — and ramps up the danger fires pose.

California’s forests, which cover a third of the state, are now choked with nearly 163 million dead trees.

Weakened by a prolonged drought, which scientists link to climate change, California’s ubiquitous pines and oaks are vulnerable to insect infestation and disease. Those giants crash to the

forest floor and, unless they are removed, provide ready fodder for the next voracious fire. The die-off is catastrophic, beyond the reach of state foresters to remedy.

In many communities of the central and southern Sierra Nevada mountain range, “80% of trees are dead,” said Ken Pimlott, former director of Cal Fire.

The state owns only about 3% of California’s wooded acreage. Some land is owned by cities, counties, Native American tribes and private holders. President-elect Trump has long criticized

California’s fire management:

But in fact, the biggest forest landlord in California, by far, is the federal government, which manages 18 national forests in the state.

The U.S. Forest Service has a longtime policy of putting out every fire, and quickly, which has packed the federal land with fuel to burn. And its budget falls short of the cost of needed

work to reduce that fuel.

If a burned-out forest is replaced by chaparral or brush, that landscape loses more than 90 percent of its capacity to take in and store carbon.

A warming climate complicates everything. Hotter and drier seasons mean that big fires in December, once almost unheard of, are now common.

In earlier decades, fires late in the year might have sputtered out after hitting hillsides wet with winter rain. More recent blazes feasted on vegetation that has been sucked of moisture by

persistent drought.

Even years of plentiful rain harbor dangers. Post-fire precipitation, especially very wet winters, can usher in the growth of non-native shrubs and grasses that burn quickly and spread fires

faster than native species.

No state has done as much as California to reduce its output of planet-warming greenhouse gases. Yet the smoke produced by major fires is so potent that a single weeks-long blaze can undo a

year’s worth of carbon-reduction efforts. State officials are concerned that what’s pumped into the air during fires could impair California’s ability to reach its stringent greenhouse-gas

reduction goals.

A single wildfire can spew more pollutants into the air than millions of cars. Moreover, as more trees die, another weapon to combat climate change is lost: the prodigious ability of healthy

trees to absorb carbon from the atmosphere. That process is reversed if the trees burn.

When fires burn in uninhabited wildlands, their corrosive effects can be carried hundreds of miles by the wind, causing stinging eyes, burning throats and severe coughing. Particles in smoke

can trigger asthma attacks and heart attacks. Smoke also contains cancer-causing substances and gases.

Local air districts issue warnings to residents to wear masks and avoid outside exercise. Hospital emergency rooms report increased numbers of patients seeking help for respiratory problems,

and school closures can keep as many as a million children home as even indoor air quality deteriorates.

Trees release a powerful pollutant, black carbon, as they burn. Black carbon is many thousand times more damaging than greenhouse gases. And the damage doesn’t cease once flames are snuffed

out; decaying forests continue to emit harmful pollutants.

If a burned-out forest is replaced by chaparral or brush, that landscape loses more than 90% of its capacity to take in and retain carbon.

When fires rage in California’s mountains, the systems that store and clean water, feed streams and rivers, support fish and other wildlife and literally hold the hillsides together burns

up.

Forests are watersheds, a critical component of California’s water supply.

California’s wildfire season is essentially year-round now. And with wildfires expected to get worse, residents, utilities and the state play a role in minimizing the impact of the wildfire

seasons.

Residents have a responsibility to create a defensible space around their property and “harden” homes to make them fire resistant.

California law requires creating a buffer by clearing out trees, brush and grass within 100 feet around homes in wildfire-affected areas. Fire officials say it can increase the likelihood of

a house surviving a wildfire eight-fold. In addition, homes with wood or shingle roofs are at high risk of being destroyed. Consider materials such as composition, metal or tile.

Investor-owned utilities must prepare wildfire mitigation plans that describe what they are doing to prevent, combat and respond to wildfires. The three largest utilities, Pacific Gas &

Electric, Southern California Edison, San Diego Gas & Electric, all plan to spend billions clearing brush and trees away from transmission lines, insulate or underground power lines, install

or maintain a network of remote cameras and weather stations to detect wind, smoke and other dangers.

But a state audit found that some of the wildfire plans were “seriously deficient” and concluded that state officials are failing to hold California’s electric utilities accountable for

preventing fires caused by their equipment. The report to the California Legislature found that the new Office of Energy Infrastructure Safety approved utility companies’ wildfire prevention

plans even when they were “seriously deficient.” 

PG&E and SCE are now following in the footsteps of SDG&E in expanding the use of public safety power shutoffs, also known as de-energization. The practice of shutting off electric power

during dangerous weather conditions is viewed as a public-safety measure of last resort because it can cut off internet access and make communication difficult for hospitals, firefighters

and emergency personnel.

On March 22, 2019, Gov. Newsom declared a wildfire state of emergency for California and waived environmental regulations to speed up forest management projects aimed at reducing the fuel

load for the upcoming wildfire season. By removing dead trees or clearing brush, the programs aim to reduce the threat of wildfires by creating fuel breaks, defensible space and safe travel

corridors around vulnerable communities.

Some environmental groups, however, question whether logging would damage ecosystems and suggest it’s more effective to clear vegetation around homes.

It has to be said that fires are not always bad. Naturally occurring fires clear overgrown forests, creating space for some plants and trees to revitalize. Researchers say less-dense forests

are more natural and healthy.

But more often in California, wildfires ignite a furious competition for life. Fast-growing and opportunistic non-native plants rush in after fires, with the potential to wholly supplant

native species. This phenomenon doesn’t just erase an aspect of California’s botanical history; it affects its fire future. Invasive grasses and weeds often burn more readily, fanning hotter

and more frequent fires.

The state routinely exceeds projected fire suppression costs. In 2018, California spent nearly $1 billion on fire suppression and emergency response, surpassing the budgeted $450 million.

Put another way: CalFire’s total funding for fire protection, resource management and fire prevention has grown from $800 million in 2005-06 to an estimated $3.7 billion in 2021-22.

In years of exceptional fire activity, the cost to suppress them can drain California’s emergency fund: In 2020 an estimated $1.76 billion was pulled from the contingency coffers.

Advanced firefighting tools that the state relies on don’t come cheap. Cal Fire boasts one of the largest, if not the largest, firefighting air fleets in the world, including S-2T air

tankers and Huey helicopters. The state has started upgrading the Hueys to specially retrofitted Black Hawk firefighting helicopters and will add C-130 Hercules cargo planes. 

And rather than waiting to respond to a wildfire, emergency personnel have shifted to pre-positioning strike teams before a fire even starts. It’s a strategy that costs more.

Insurance in fire-prone areas is expensive. California homeowners insurance rates increased by more than 43% between 2018 and 2023, according to an analysis by S&P Global. 

Some major insurers have stopped writing policies in California, citing fire risk along with inflation. The FAIR Plan, the state-mandated insurer of last resort for those who can’t find

other coverage, added 212,960 new policies for homes and businesses in the fiscal year ending September 2024, more than double the number from the year before. FAIR Plan policies are

concentrated in fire-prone counties, accounting for more than a quarter of new policies in the 10 counties with highest fire risk, according to the most recent Department of Insurance data.

Higher prices have influenced purchasing patterns, researchers with the RAND Corp. have found: Policyholders are buying less coverage, low-balling the cost to fully replace their belongings

and electing higher deductibles.

Hundreds of thousands of miles of transmission lines and other electrical equipment are strung across California, drawing little attention—until authorities name utility equipment as the

cause of a wildfire. One in 10 California wildfires is related to energy equipment, according to the state’s chief utility regulator.

Lawmakers have ordered that utility companies put safety measures in place, hoping to ensure that their equipment won’t spark future fires. Among the firms’ strategies: more aggressively

clearing brush and trees around transmission lines; swapping wooden power poles for metal ones; maintaining a network of remote cameras to keep watch on wind, smoke and other dangers; and

preemptively shutting down the power when conditions are windy and dry.

None of these or other fire-mitigation efforts will come cheaply. Early estimates place the cumulative economic cost of Pacific Gas & Electric’s huge 2019 blackout in Northern California at

up to $2.5 billion. When a judge proposed sweeping new safety measures for PG&E, the company said the work could cost an eye-popping $150 billion. And consumers can be expected to foot much

of the fire-mitigation bill as utility companies pass costs along to them.

Even when fires threaten homes and no help is in sight, all is not lost. There is much homeowners can do to prepare and protect their property in the face of wildfire, beginning with 

clearing trees, brush and wood piles around their houses,.

The manner of construction and the types of materials used can help give structures a fighting chance against the advance of flames. California building codes for new homes require forgoing

wooden roofs and decks in favor of fire-resistant materials, among other things.

Among the actions homeowners can take to protect their property:

There are, however, some places where the risk is so great that fire scientists say homes simply should not be built there—even in a state where housing shortages have reached crisis levels.

In California from 1990 to 2010, an estimated 45% of new housing units were constructed in the “wildland-urban interface”—where suburbia and rural towns back up onto wild, and combustible,

landscapes. With more residences sprouting on the edge of wildlands or deep in narrow canyons, fires become an inevitability and firefighters have a tougher and larger territory to defend.

What to do? State lawmakers have already extended some state restrictions to local lands, and some have talked about pospossible rebates or other subsidies for residents who cannot afford to

“harden” their homes. But essentially legislators are grappling with an unpalatable reality: Require even more extensive and expensive upgrades to existing homes, or ban building altogether

in some areas. That discussion is as potentially explosive as the fires themselves.— CalMatters housing reporter Felicia Mello contributed to this explainer

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