Karen Piper: Rethinking colonial water architecture in the face of ‘scarcity’ (ep315)
Why is it critical to contextualize our current water conflicts with colonial history? How has the dominant water architecture changed the way we relate to water? And what are some success stories from communities pushing back against those attempting to monopolize control over water?
In this episode, we welcome Karen Piper, the author of Cartographic Fictions, Left in the Dust, The Price of Thirst, and a memoir called A Girl's Guide to Missiles. Her interests are water architecture, climate change, weapons development history, creative nonfiction, and world literature. She currently teaches in the English department at the University of Missouri.
Stay updated on Karen’s work via her website and her Twitter @PiperK.
Musical feature: Trust The Sun by Inanna
“The European way of thinking about water [through massive dams and reservoir systems has taken] over the whole world. It was colonial, then it spilled into the post-colonial environment. Now it’s just a regular part of modern life in much of the world.”
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Transcript
Note: *The values and opinions of our diverse guests do not necessarily reflect those of Green Dreamer. Our episodes are minimally edited, and we encourage further inquiry, seeing our dialogues as invitations to dive deeper into each topic and perspective. This transcript has been edited for brevity and clarity.
Kamea Chayne: The primary topic I'd love to explore with you today is water and the conflicts and injustices surrounding it. But I'm curious to hear a little bit about your background and what really crystallized your own interest and inquiries on the subject.
Karen Piper: I grew up in the Mojave Desert in California at a weapons development center. The base was called China Lake. Because of that, I was always fascinated with both war history and water, because when you grow up in the desert in California, you're very aware that you need water to stay alive because it's so hot. It fascinated me how California developed and moved around its water. So that's how my interest in water got started. In graduate school, I wrote my thesis about LA's water, which turned into my book Left in the Dust. I was also interested in mapping, which goes along with the way that water is used to organize territory. So that led to my other book, Cartographic Fictions. All of this led to my next book, The Price of Thirst, where I looked at globalization and water. I traveled around the world and talked to activists looking at alternatives for our current water problems and our global water shortages. And then finally, my last book was my memoir, A Girl's Guide to Missiles, a much more personal story about my connection with the Mojave Desert and what it was like to grow up in a city that was built for war.
Kamea Chayne: Oftentimes today, discussions around water scarcity revolve around more individualistic and consumerist understandings of it: that it might be a matter of people and households or even farms and manufacturers just using too much water and therefore leading to scarcity. But in your book, you trace the modern-day water crises to their colonial origins. Why has it been critical for you to contextualize our current water conflicts and issues around scarcity with colonial history?
Karen Piper: There has been a focus on individual responsibility, and that comes with its own problems because it avoids the much larger picture. Water is something that moves across borders. You can't confine it to one individual or even one country—though people try. I was more interested in the kinds of connections that water creates between people and how people negotiate those connections.
Traveling the world, I was able to see the way that water had been harnessed, and the way that water systems had been built, for colonial enterprises, and how different that was from Indigenous ways of looking at water. What struck me was this idea of "modern water architecture", which is something that emerged in the 20th century.
Dams and reservoirs and pipes have spread now throughout much of the world, and such modern water architecture is intended to hide water. Reservoirs are off-limits, pipes are underground, so we don't see how we live with and are impacted by water every day… which I see as a loss.
When I went to other countries, like in India, they have this massive water tank system with these gorgeous, elaborate tanks, but there are holes in the ground with beautiful steps going down into them, and sometimes houses built over them. They store water underground that way—you see the beauty in living with water and having it be visible.
Kamea Chayne: In The Price of Thirst, you share how dams and water diversion systems built in the colonial times for the elites have transformed post-colonialism, but nevertheless perhaps still uphold a similar power dynamic, just with power in different hands. What can you tell us about this transition of power from colonial water systems to modern-day corporate privatization—and even water banking, and the broad range of issues that all of this has sparked for our world today?
Karen Piper: When the British came into India, for instance, they wanted to completely remake India [to look like Europe]. [At first, they were] harnessing water just through dirt canals. But then as concrete became cheap, it spread throughout the world as the main way of dealing with water. When the colonizers went into Africa, they built massive dams and reservoir systems, which eventually spilled over into China (which is still doing that).
The European way of thinking about water [through massive dams and pipe systems has taken] over the whole world. It was colonial, but then it spilled into the post-colonial environment. Now it's just a regular part of modern life in much of the world.
Kamea Chayne: We had discussed on the show before about how a lot of modern-day ideologies around environmentalism are ultimately rooted in a colonial world view of separation—a separation between nature and humans. I think this colonial way of looking at water takes a similar story, in that water, as you mentioned, is stored in dams and then expedited to their intended destinations in pipes, in a way that really separates the water from their biological water cycle. Within the biosphere, they would be cycling in a similar path, but be able to enrich life along the way, rather than being confined inside of pipes, which really prevents water from being able to enrich life in the ecosystem.
So I want to deconstruct the topic of dams a little more. [The way the water system works currently, with mega-dams and pipes, has become] so normalized. I've wondered if they're truly necessary to ensuring that everyone has access to freshwater. Because, as we mentioned, people and more-than-human beings have managed to meet our water needs before—prior to the free-flowing water and the active biological water cycle being disrupted, diverted, and dammed up, which then withholds that water from the landscapes that rely on them.
So how might we understand dams, specifically through the lens of power and control, rather than understanding it as a way to ensure that people have access to the water that they need—which is a basic survival need?
Karen Piper: That's something I've pondered while I was writing The Price of Thirst.
I remember asking an environmental activist in the Himalayas—his name is Sunderlal Bahuguna—what is the alternative to large dams? He said: small dams. I think that that's one possibility in cities and villages. In India, they're rebuilding ancient small dams that supply villages, but that are also more incorporated with the wetlands in the region and aren't as separated from people.
Large dams have been a way for nations—or empires before that—to assert their dominance.
They are often associated, now, with proving you're the biggest and the best—which is sort of how China ended up building the Three Gorges Dam. It's like, "I'm going to fix the water problem for the whole country with this giant dam.” So you have these large projects becoming promises that help promote a certain world leader to get them into power.
But I think of large dams as large water evaporators. They lose so much water just by evaporation. When I traveled the world, I was struck by how many countries stored water underground instead. India, as I mentioned, utilizes a lot of underground water storage. A lot of the Middle Eastern countries have built elaborate tunnels that take water from the mountains to the cities. It's all underground because they don't want evaporation. There are so many things that we could do differently: both to save water, but also to live with it more visibly.
Kamea Chayne: And the primary conversations in climate change have largely revolved around greenhouse gases and carbon emissions. But really, the water cycle plays a huge role in regulating the climate. So I also wonder about how the ways that we've altered the water cycle with these colonial water systems may actually have impacted and aggravated the climate crisis as well.
Karen Piper: I learned as I was traveling the world that one of the issues with dams is that those dams weren't built for climate change—dams are getting filled up. Dams already have a limited lifespan because they tend to fill with silt, and they have to be continually dredged. But then sometimes you just can't dredge that much silt, so they can fill up. But with climate change, there's less snowpack and more water flowing into these dams, so dams are reaching their limits. We saw it with the Oroville water crisis in California, and just last year in China with the Three Gorges Dam.
What happens, then, is that they will start releasing water from these dams. But then you flood people downstream. China, for example, had to evacuate three hundred thousand people to release enough water to keep the dam from collapsing. And they have been accused of releasing water without even warning people, for instance, in India. Do they have a responsibility to tell people in India if they're doing water releases since that's not their country? So it brings up all these cross-border issues and the issue of migration.
Kamea Chayne: The primary idea around water scarcity that has stuck with me from past conversations I've had here is that water can be understood as a verb rather than a noun. This I learned from Judith D. Schwartz of Water in Plain Sight, which reminds us that we should see water as water processes and the water cycle, which is active, rather than just water consumption, implying that it goes away.
Water merely transforms, and it doesn't get used up. So we can certainly misplace water or pollute water or disrupt the water cycle and the biosphere—that's a complex water filtration system in itself that has been going through billions of years of research and development. But water doesn't disappear or go away. So I wonder how we hold this reality of the inevitable chemistry and biology of life on Earth with the water that is still here, while reckoning with very real issues of inequitable water access and perhaps systemically constructed forms of scarcity.
Karen Piper: I really like that idea of water as a verb. I hadn't heard that, but that's how I tend to think of it. It's this active moving force that's always changing.
In terms of equity, that's one of the big issues, coming back to this idea of migration that I was talking about before. As people are migrating, they're often crossing borders. And as they cross borders, people see that as a problem. But we have to come up with ways to think about how we are going to deal with what is happening to the planet instead of just setting up walls against people. With climate change, countries are building large dams to keep water from flowing into neighboring countries. And so that contributes to these massive crises and immigration crises.
For instance, with Syria and Turkey: Syria was in the midst of an enormous drought which led to civil war there and led to massive migration into Turkey. But there's also Turkey building massive dams that were cutting off water to Syria and to Iraq. So you can't cut off the water to other countries without expecting [people from] those countries coming to your country.
People will follow the water, no matter where it is. We have to think of ourselves as a migratory species, in many ways, rather than people that should be separated from each other.
Kamea Chayne: I think understanding the world through the lens of water helps us to remember how much of our reality, as we know it today, are social constructs. For example, borders: Water does not know borders, and policies that one nation-state has in regards to how they control and manage water will ripple off to having effects on neighboring communities and countries as well. Ultimately, it reminds us that we live on a shared planet.
And something that I've noticed you do, because I do the same thing, is that you often put development in quotation marks. And to go further, you share how "development" often has been a direct substitute for the word "colonial"—for example, how the field of colonial economics became development economics while still essentially being about the same ideologies.
So what do we need to challenge in regards to the whole concept of development and whose values it centers? And by extension, as we look ahead, should the same questions be raised when people talk about things like, "sustainable development"?
Karen Piper: We used to use the term "Third World countries", because it was a Cold War term. [There was] the "First World", "Second World"—Russia, the Soviet Union. And then everything else was "Third World". Then international institutions switched to the term "underdeveloped countries" or "developing countries".
[Using terms like “underdeveloped countries” or “developing countries”] puts [these countries] in a position of inferiority [in relation to the “(more) developed” countries], and it doesn't respect the long history of development that these countries have had.
For instance, India had this massive empire and developed so many different arts and knowledge, while Europe was still in the dark ages. How do you think about these chronologies? The way that the international institutions tend to think of it now is just that part of the world is still "developing" to become like us—like Europeans. That's an unfair way of looking at it—though I don't know what the alternative would be. "Sustainable development" falls into that. The term just falls into that same trap of thinking of "developing".
Kamea Chayne: I do think that these terminologies should constantly be challenged because they center certain perspectives and values while dismissing other ways of being and looking at the world.
There are colonial understandings of environmentalism, and then there are worldviews that are more rooted in Indigenous ideologies of integration and seeing humans as one part of Earth. There are different factions of the environmental movement that I've witnessed, where people are focusing on different types of solutions based on their understandings and worldviews—some people are more driven by or inspired by things that are technologically focused or otherwise things that are more earth-oriented.
In terms of water, the idea of development probably comes in when people see these systems of dams and water pipes as being more "advanced" and more "civilized" than the water cycle in and of itself, that is already in the biosphere. So by challenging the idea of development and this colonial water system being more advanced, you also are able to unlearn these ideologies that assume that this is the way that things should be as humanity progresses.
It also really forces us to look at the impacts of adopting this sort of water system that has separated water from these living ecologies where they historically have been—so it helps us to decentralize certain values and to really remember what we should focus on as our end goal.
Karen Piper: Exactly.
How much of [what we assume to be] progression [in terms of modern water architecture, systems of dams and water pipes, etc.] is really regression anyway?
Because look where it's gotten us—it's gotten us into climate change, which is the great unmaking of the world as we know it… Humans always think they're in control and making things better, but maybe we never have been.
Kamea Chayne: This is where learning history is so helpful, because it helps us to learn what has worked and what hasn't worked. There are definitely things that we can learn from more ancestral and traditional knowledges as well.
In terms of solutions, there are increasingly more discussions on desalination technologies as a way to ease the freshwater insecurity that people are facing. What has been your take on how this either truly can lead to a democratization of access to fresh water in the immediate term, or whether it may just be a repetition of upholding the same pattern of monopolization of power and control away from the people—in ways that might create a new set of problems, and with a new reliance on technologies, make it even more out of reach for the most vulnerable?
Karen Piper: Desalination technologies are like Band-Aids, but they're not big enough Band-Aids. Yes, you can, in an emergency, create a certain amount of water for drinking, but it takes too much power. So you get into the same old question: What are you using to power desalination plants? Will that make things worse?
If we're consuming all this power to make water, will it make climate change worse? I've heard some talk about solar-powered desalination plants, which would be good, but I can't see that supplying enough water.
Kamea Chayne: So it doesn't address the root causes of the water crises that we have today, and even as a temporary Band-Aid, it can't really be scaled because of how energy and resource intensive it is.
Karen Piper: I went to a desalination plant in Aruba, and it was oil-powered, polluting the air... There was this great black smoke around. So it's like any oil plant, and why do we want to build more oil plants now? And also desalination plants have byproducts: one of the biggest problems is salt. You take all the salt out of the water, and what do you do with the salt? Where are you going to store it? And is it going to migrate around and pollute other things? Some plants are just dumping it in the ocean but all this extra salt is dangerous for fish, which is another problem.
Kamea Chayne: The synopsis of your book starts with "‘There's Money in Thirst,’ reads a headline in the New York Times. The CEO of Nestlé, purveyor of bottled water, heartily agrees. It is important to give water a market value, he says in a promotional video, so ‘we're all aware that it has a price.’" Strangely, there is truth in that we need to value our "natural resources" more, although valuing something is not synonymous with commodifying, let alone privatizing, profiteering and controlling it. And that nuance and looking at value and abundance through different angles and centering different people's values and interests has been the bulk of this conversation.
If we're being real, things are looking grim as we learn about all the conflicts and wars that are being sparked because of our water crises. But you've also seen incredible resilience from communities pushing back against those attempting to monopolize control over water. So what are some of those success stories that you can share, and where might some of our more systemic solutions lie?
Karen Piper: That's something that has always given me hope. When I feel gloomy about climate change or water issues, I think about the people I met around the world.
One of them was Sunderlal Bahuguna, whom I mentioned earlier. I see these people like him, who just fought a hundred years and never gave up. He would do these fasts, that would last a hundred days, just sitting on a dam in a tent. For him, it was more like a spiritual journey—of connecting with water, of grieving the loss of water, because his whole city was flooded to build a dam—but also developing a community. His wife, whom I dedicated my book to—he would always defer to her and say she was the real leader—led the Chipko movement in India, which was a movement against colonial deforestation. Women would come from their villages when loggers came, and they would hug the trees, to put their bodies between the chainsaw and the tree.
People like that, who struggled so much and suffered so much, give me so much inspiration. They get small victories; it's not enormous. But for example, the Chipko movement led to a temporary halt to deforestation in the Himalayas. So things like this work.
Kamea Chayne: We're nearing the end of our main discussion, but what else do you have lingering in your mind about our water crises and potential solutions that you'd like to share if any? And what calls to action do you have for our listeners?
Karen Piper: At this point in my life, for the past four years, I really switched into more of a political mode because of Trump getting elected and the rise of fascism in the country. Thinking about that and how it ties to water is also interesting. I think people like Trump come out of these environmental crises with a lack, or a sense that they don't really understand what's going on anymore, and that comes from climate change destabilizing the world in many ways.
So I've become very interested in understanding and, coming back to what my dad did, fighting fascism. My dad was in World War II and fought against Hitler, so I grew up learning a lot about fascism. I've been going back to that and taking a lot of inspiration from people involved in struggles against fascism. I've also been interested in looking at fascist water architecture.
I think whatever you do... The struggle can take many forms, and it can be fluid, just like water.
But I have great optimism, actually, because I've lived a life where I feel like I'm doing the right thing, and I live without regret. If you can get to my age and live without regret, I think it brings you quite a bit of peace.
*** CLOSING ***
Kamea Chayne: What's an uplifting social media account or publication you follow or a book that's been really profound for you?
Karen Piper: The Great Derangement by Amitav Ghosh. It talks about how humans are deranged by their inability to face climate change, and it ties it back to colonial history as well. It's just a brilliant rethinking of climate change. Another book I have to mention is Aspects of the New Right-Wing Extremism by Theodor Adorno—which looks into the type of people that are drawn to fascism. It was written in 1967, but I couldn't believe how much it still applies today and it talks about how to contain those types of people.
Kamea Chayne: What do you tell yourself to stay motivated and inspired?
Karen Piper: I'm pretty motivated and inspired just by habit at this point. Right now I'm living in Seattle, and I get to work and look at the water every day. Just looking at the water brings me happiness.
Kamea Chayne: That sounds lovely. And what makes you most hopeful for our planet and world at the moment?
Karen Piper: The resilience of nature. I don't say that lightly, because I don't think that things are going to get better for us, because nature is resilient. I think nature might decide they've had enough of us. But I've come to terms with that. Another book I'd like to recommend is Requiem for a Species by Clive Hamilton. It talks about how humans have this inability to face climate change, in the same way they have the inability to face death. There's just too much denial surrounding it. He talks about going through the five stages of grief in thinking about what's happening to the planet now. That book really helped me to process a lot of the feelings that I was having about climate change and actually come to a much more hopeful place afterward... to acceptance.
Kamea Chayne: Karen, thank you so much for joining me today. It's been an honor to have you here. What final words of wisdom do you have for us as green dreamers?
Karen Piper: See nature, be in nature, learn the names of things... It opens up a whole new world to you.
