Governor Laura Kelly mentioned Kansas’ water crisis in her 2023 State of the State Address, but so far she has proposed few specific policies to alleviate the problem. Will this be the year that Kansas policymakers step up?
Some 90 years ago, the state endured the catastrophic Dust Bowl from 1931 to 1939. This tragedy was not caused by drought alone. The Dust Bowl was aided and abetted by the removal of natural grasslands for farmland. Tilling the soil made it vulnerable to drought and wind, and much of the topsoil blew away. Agricultural policies during the New Deal era aimed to prevent a second disaster. They included planting trees as windbreaks, offering incentives for low- and no-till farming, paying farmers to leave land fallow on a rotating basis, and the creation of soil and water conservation districts.
Today, we face a similar crisis with the High Plains Aquifer. Discovered in the late 1800s, the Aquifer is the reason why much of today’s agriculture in Western Kansas, Nebraska, and Oklahoma is possible. Large-scale reliance on the Aquifer followed, with center-pivot irrigation becoming popular by the late Twentieth Century. Once known as the “Great American Desert,” suddenly this land could support non-drought resistant crops including soybeans and corn, in addition to winter wheat, which was already being grown there. In those earlier days, there were minimal limitations on how much water could be pumped and the level fell accordingly. Rainfall amounts vary greatly from year to year, and water levels vary in different places, but on balance, the water levels in the Aquifer have been falling for some time. Agriculture accounts for 94% of groundwater use in Kansas, according to the Kansas Geological Survey.
Thirty-seven years ago, author Marc Reisner’s 1986 book “Cadillac Desert” concluded that the Aquifer would one day reach a level where no more water could be pumped, effectively shutting down most agriculture in and around Western Kansas. Reisner also chronicled various proposals, some of which were downright bizarre, such as making entire rivers flow in the opposite direction. Wisely, policymakers rejected such foolishness. Not so wisely, they chose instead to implement only limited solutions.
Today, climate change complicates the problem further. Droughts have become more common, and average temperatures around here have risen by 1.5 degrees. Hotter temperatures mean more evaporation. Rainfall patterns throughout the year are changing, necessitating more adaptations.
Unfortunately, our farmers still face strong incentives to pump as much water as possible. Water rights have been set for well users for some time, but regulation and compliance are complicated. Droplines reduce lost water from center-pivot systems, but they are not enough without additional changes such as increased crop rotation. The United States continues to overproduce corn, a water-intensive, heat-sensitive crop that is not the best fit for Western Kansas’ climate, though newer farm legislation has begun to move away from that. Other waterways are threatened, too.
Without strong, bipartisan leadership, this issue could be yet another one sucked into our country’s wider culture wars, sowing distrust and making it harder to reach agreements between farmers and other conservation advocates. That would be a shame. Kansas farmers proudly help feed the world. The decisions we make today will decide if they can do so in the future.
About the author: Michael Smith teaches political science at Emporia State University.
