Category Archives: climate emergency

Dystopian Diptychs: Virtual and Economic Realities of the Palisades Fires

The problem of mapping fires and fires spread in Los Angeles is demanding, challenging, and increasingly frustrating. Exacerbated by the new weather systems of climate change–high, dry winds; dried trees; low groundwater–and the increased combustibility of the landscapes that area among the most treasured in the world, we face so many multi-factorial problems of the origins of any fire that there is no clear smoking gun to place blame. To be sure, before the engines of climate change, we lack the need for assistance to a sprawling urban infrasctructure to provide the water or fire mitigation needed to deal with them.

But if the amazingly destructive fury of the fires that began in the Pacific Palisades this past year reminded no one so much as a dystopian image of Hell of Dantesque proportions–of raging fires consuming buildings, sending firefighters desperately running to staunch the conflagration’s spread against all odds in flaming settings that raged with an intensity one can only call infernal,–

Pacific Palisades Fire/National Geographic/Ethan Swope AP

–provoking collective questioning and at least a temporary interrogation of what went wrong. Suddenly, in ways that intersected so eerily with Donald Trump’s inauguration, the built world around Los Angeles, and indeed some architectural treasures of the early twentieth century, were revealed as ephemeral and at risk–not hhugely valuable properties were flattened, but as fires spread across the arid landscape of the Palisades, carried by the embers and sparks that moved in paths we have not clearly traced, the dormant embers of an earlier fire, unextinguished, suddenly rekindled in the forested lands, and rapidly spread in the Santa Monica mountains in the Santa Ana winds to Topanga and Malibu, over 23,000 acres, fanning one of the largest fires in California’s history and largest losses of property and residences the state experienced. Eight months without rainfall created a landscape primed for the destruction of property and forested lands. What followed numerous red flag warnings by the National Weather Service in the Santa Monica mountains and Malibu coast of critical fire risk, amidst what CAL FIRE called “the perfect conditions for a large wildfire,” amidst record dryness and an unprecedented “fuel load” of dry vegetation.

We are rarely ready to think of property and buildings as so contingent, as residents were forced to flee property valued at hugely astronomical sums and nearby towns, suddenly flattened in the flames’ wake, as toxic smooth poured over the region and blanketed the blue skies.

In a dreaded constellation of factors that set new standards for multifactorial explanations–as climate change will–but might be confused by being tied to divine whim, or ill fate, the Los Angeles fires of early 2025 were fanned by otherworldly hurricane-force winds that created fireballs that firefighters struggled to extinguish against all odds. The hurricane-strength winds that fanned the spread of the fire consumed mansions of the Pacific Palisades, a coastal enclave of the wealthy, suddenly more vulnerable to flames. Those less fortunate residents of Altadena, CA were not leaving cars, but fleeing on foot amidst emergency services, masks on mouths in hopes to prevent inhaling toxic smoke, desperately navigating safety beneath skies glowing an eery red seemed an image of hell in the poorer community–where flames reduced homes to skeletal structures–trying to flee to safety from the Eaton fires in nearby communities, where many residences were destroyed and traffic jams created on the interstate that led many to abandon their cars–not the easiest habit for Southern California residents–

Ethan Swope/AP

The burn area on the edges of the city became impossible for firefighters to extinguish as it consumed the load of dried vegetation under hurricane-force winds, exceeding local reservoirs of water and providing a searing image of the inability of humans to control natural forces in their immediate surroundings–spreading faster and across a burn area far greater than previous fires.

Penitentes/from Wikipedia, using data from CalFire, USGS, USFS, NPS, US Census and OpenStreetMap

With the knowledge of such suffering and the huge scale of severn fires that had rekindled from an earlier Palisades Fire, the recent discovery that a disgruntled twenty something Uber driver set the earlier fire in the Pacific Palisades intentionally. That he did so on New Years Eve, after having dropped off a fare in the exclusive enclave, and taken a walk in the woods listening to French rapper before flaming garbage pails in Parisian streets, maps the origin of the fires of such incomprehensible scale to a malicious act seems not only tied to a mind more shaped by social media than we ever imagined, but alienated from those exclusive enclaves that he brooked such seeming hatred. The Uber driver who his fares described as angry changed all the talk of the vulnerable nature of the urban periphery and the extra urban woodland-urban interface. The origins of the fire were not mapped by a dangerous geography of increased fire risk, but was as imaginary as real, and somehow not so clearly linked to dryness and full force winds, as the apocalyptical proportions of the fire on the Los Angeles periphery had in fact been already imagined–with the help of ChatGPT–which had on request generated some dystopian images on demand of the divides between panicked residents fleeing raging flames in eery juxtaposition with the image of a bucolic city.

We are prompted to associate ChatGPT with withdrawal from reality, and indeed see it as severing its users (or clients?) from the skills of spatial orientation that we see as fundamental to orient ourselves in a sense of place. Jonathan Rinderknecht’s request to generate images of the burning city seems to have arrived already distanced from reality, perhaps even an addict seeking to delude himself further in the most irresponsible ways to envision the unthinkable destruction of a part of Los Angeles even as red flag warnings abounded in the region’s hills. The ignition of the fires at the very intersection of forested lands and extra urban growth–the intersecting areas where wood is exposed to electric charges and anthropogenic wires known as the Wildland-Urban Interface, for short WUI, seems as if it was predetermined. The blaming of this disaffected man–akin to the blame distribute to communities of the unhoused for setting fires intentionally that are prosecuted as arson–cannot be separated from the anthropogenic landscape of proximity to woodlands, without defensible space, or even clear resources for emergency vehicles, to contain and interact with fires of ever greater intensity, which firefighters may, in even an increasingly vulnerable time when the city is prone to fire risk, create a landscape we lack familiarity to fight and contain, and caused the rapid spread of a brush fire from the aptly named Skull Rock toward the coast to Malibu and down Topanga Canyon, destroying 1,000 houses in hours, hitting the coast in twenty-four, and going on to destroy nearly 16,000 structures in the Woodlands-Urban Interface, where not only roads but houses, communications antennae, gas tanks, and: an astounding 98.25% of the homes destroyed in the Palisades Fire lay in the WUI,

The high risk of building out in the region was perhaps repressed or silenced, in ways that seek to haunt the huge attention that Rinderknecht’s prosecution has advanced, as the fire season begins again, seems almost a smokescreen, sent by the Department of Justice, eager to link the fires to the disaffected young man who was using ChatGPT in order to generate disastrous images, obscuring the real risks of building in the mountains adjacent to forested lands. The rapid spread of that destructive fire calls for mitigation efforts to prevent losses adjacent to wildland fire, and a better mapping of the heightened risk in areas of WUI, rather than incriminating isolated individuals.

Los Angeles Wildland-Urban Interface & Fire Perimeters, Finley Bell/Western Washington University

The request the chatbot was given was to depict a city split into two–broken by a grievous class divide–in which the propertied literally partied and chilled as the thick black clouds billowed from the fires that began in forested lands–not much like the areas of Malibu that Mike Davis long ago and so provocatively suggested by let burn. The class divide that animated these scenes were more like a medieval morality play with no clear moral in sight. While the rest of the city was “chilling,” in the request Jonathan Rindernecht asked OpenAI to render on his device. In the image, it seems thousands are fleeing the burning city–long before the actual fires sent residents fleeing after actual Evacuation Alerts. In the images, which almost look like cautionary messages or hateful conjurings, dark smoke blankets the sky. A week after the government shutdown began after Republicans failed to agree upon the appropriations legislation for the coming fiscal year, and emergency response services to disaster response across the nation, with widespread furloughs and cuts in major mitigation and prevention products funded by the Disaster Relief Fund, placing California’s state-wide disaster response abilities in severe jeopardy as they prepare for new threats at the start of fire season, furloughing a full quarter of federal forest service staff in the state, the prosecution of Rinderknecht as the poster boy for criminal negligence fits a pattern of reducing multifactorial problems of fire mitigation to one bad actor, a deviant whose plans were confirmed by the eery nature of the computer generated images of fires he asked to be produce.

The actual fires have a virtual smoking gun, at last, pinned, for all the unimaginability of their scale of destruction, on a discontented Uber driver int he service economy, who used his sick mind to hamper the ability of rescue services to protect property against wildfire and destitution of some of the nation’s most ecologically delicate coastal landscapes of untold splendor, a bad apple whose lighter sparked seven fires and the greatest destruction of property. And even if CalFIRE has hired   thousands of additional firefighters, natural resource professionals, and the state’s governor slotted millions in investments in hopes to protect sensitive communities from wildfire risk, introducing $135 million available in prevention projects and wildfire resistance while spending  $72 million across the state since 2019, calling for a new standards of emergency readiness in the March 2025 state of emergency proclamation, the protection against wildfire spread remains pressing, and will be deeply impacted by the shutdown in ways terrible to contemplate by trimming wildfire response statewide before a hotter and drier climate. The federal prosecution of Rincherknecht, who was apprehended in Florida a week into the shutdown, and indicted on three charges of starting the Lachman fire for arson, destruction of property used in interstate commerce, and setting timber on fire, accused an individual of starting the destructive fires whose resignation flattened 17.000 homes and buildings across LA County, dominating the news cycle for a few days. After narrowing the possible proximate causes for the fires’ sudden ignitions under high winds from New Years Eve fireworks to lightning strikes to domestic fires, unhoused, or out of doors camping, the revelation of vandalism of the bucolic landscape of the super-rich revealed Rinderknecht’s location New Years’ Eve at the end of his Uber ride to the exclusive enclave where older fires had rekindled.

Are the revealed charges filed a week after the government shutdown truly in the public interest? The “paintings” a disaffected twenty-nine year old, Jonathan Rinderknecht, generated appeared on his own screen months before the fire. Is this the smoking gun–pardon the expression–that helps us understand the fire so catastrophic in proportions, not due to the failed infrastructure of a fire department not ready to deal with the sudden needs for water and inflammable agents needed to blanket houses built in forested areas, but the mental health of an unstable individual, who ideated the disaster in a diptych he asked be rendered in two panels of people fleeing a burning city whose ostensible neighbors, tied to wealthy conglomerates, “chill” in ways oblivious to the advancing of apocalyptic flames?

The AI bot spelled out, in wayst rarely mapped so starkly, the divide between “haves” and “have-nots” in Los Angeles natural disasters– although the “have-nots” were being visited with a punishment no one should ever face, that resemble not the LA Fires, perhaps, because they look a bit like an AI version of the destruction of Rome. Or are they not possibly a plausible smokescreen? By pinning responsibility on one man with psychological issues who was overcome with intense loneliness, his rage against the city where he lived off what might be called marginal work pushed the question of fire risk to the margins as the arrival of an ever earlier fire season intersected with a sudden decline in emergency preparedness that the shutdown had perhaps coincidentally precipitated–increasing the area of wildfire risk in the state by ending plans for controlled burns in Lassen, Trinity Alps, and San Bernardino County, even as Cal Fire will go ahead with planned burns in Mendocino and Butte. As the state is increasing its wildfire readiness and emergency preparedness, the dystopia of fires again raging across the state that is triggered by Rinderknecht’s AI images is encouraged by Forest Service cuts and voluntary resignations across the state.

Credit: Department of Justice

Rinderknecht was indeed spending New Year’s Eve alone, we learn, and was doing so against his desire, when as if in an act of rebellion and assertion, took out his lighter. He lit the fire shortly before midnight as if to ring in the New Year with real fireworks, without the relative safety of the French rap video of a man lighting trash in a can aflame, but with a similar deliberacy and cool as he seems to have danced in the forest, lighting flames with his lighter at several spots, maybe under the influence as well, and probably feeling deeply alienated and alone that would eventually flatten almost 37,000 acres and kill at least eleven as a result of its spread–and sending plumes of toxic smoke over the region. The plumes of smoke seem to be conjured in the images generated by Chat GPT at the twenty-nine year old’s request almost as chillingly than the spread of flames.

Bucolic may be an overstatement–but the skies are blue and the trees are green in the public parks or verdant space amidst steel and glass skyscrapers reflecting the snow-peaked mountains that seem to pass for nature. The generation of the images of countless fleeing their homes in the mountains on one side of the city as other went about their business behind stiff walls was a projection, of course, of the steep class divides and socioeconomic realities in Los Angeles, seen from the perspective of the Uber driver who ferried folks between neighborhoods of radically different wealth, social opportunity, and environmental access as well as comfort, but was also an image of the panic that fires might cause in the flammable areas of dense habitation, which ChatGPT was happy to provide to the Uber driver, as well as to assure him, after he set the fires in forested areas of the Palisades, that if he dropped a lit cigarette in the forest he would be fully legally responsible–or to see if there was a basis to escape responsibility, even as he returned to watch the flames spread in the Palisades, undoubtedly imagining the damage he would inflict on homes by lighting his own small fires.

Credit: Department of Justice

The rings of flames in those AI-generated images, if they draw on the image repository of the internet, courtesy Open AI, might well suggest the cruel fates imagined in the circles of hell, or bolge, by the canonic Florentine Renaissance painter Sandro Botticelli, who rendered the poet Dante and his purple-robed guide, the Roman poet Virgil, overlooking naked poor souls suspended amidst devils in eternal suffering in the rings of hell for all eternity, outside real time,–if the vibe is far more video game than medieval manuscript illumination.

The poet Dante wrote equally informed by theology and astrology, but the painters who illuminated deluxe codices in of Dante’s epic poem of a voyage to the afterlife increasingly employed geography and landscape to transport readers into the afterlife in credible ways, supplying increasingly detailed maps of the visionary poem at the same time as cartographic images combined maps and landscapes, raising questions about the relation of maps to landscapes from an earlier date–

Sandro Botticelli, Dante and Virgil Viewing the Souls of the Damned in Hell’s Eighth Circle, 1480s Canto XVIII

–that stand only to expand like rabbits in the age of Sora, when increased virtual reality may stand to replace the painting as a unit of visual communication. While we’ve seen mostly the faking of known figures, the remaking of alternative landscapes suggests an eery emergent genre of alternative landscape art.

The notion of landscape as map were revisited in the generic if terrifying nature of computer-generated images of burning cities that Jonathan Rinderknecht asked of a bot with which he must have shared some seriously intense encounters, that fashioned an inferno-like experience long before the fires in the Palisades were ever set. We may well find the images hen conjured on his laptop so terribly hard to look at since e it is so difficult to see them save in relation to the maps still in our minds of the LA fires’ terrifyingly fast and destructive spread to the urban periphery whose progress forced 30,000 to flee their homes in fear during the Palisades Fire, which as they spread in January tragically displaced over 200,000 from the Los Angeles area–

Even if one disaffected man with a lighter did not create all the fires that spread with rapidity on the edge of the urban infrastructure–and the rekindled embers of the flames lit by a deranged man with a lighter are hardly responsible all the fires that erupted that month outside of San Diego–

NASA Scientific Visualization of Los Angeles Fires in Southern California Fires in January 2025

–the spate of Southern California fires that were primed by such dry weather and intense winds have remained pressing problems of collective and individual responsibility that led so many to stand dumbfounded before their expanding peripheries, as the fire zones only grew and grew.

But the diptych is a storied genre, due respect on its own as a moralizing genre, first named after a writing tablet in the ancient world and Roman Empire, pairing religious panels for a narrative with visual punch, often for travel and portability, as a deeply powerful image of faith, packing a punch for moralistic ends that had some powerful conjuring of a judgement and apocalypse–often terrifyingly vividly detailed in fantastically spectral ways to conjure a material record of apocalyptic power for moralized ends. While Rinderknecht is cast as a deadbeat Uber driver, and Doordash deliver man, dealing with the emotional fallout of a messy breakup, he came from a family of devout Baptist missionaries, whose evangelism has been viewed at a remove from Rinderknecht’s arson. The director of the Association of Baptists for World Evangelism has worked to keep it that way, in statements reminding all of the very heaviness of the arts of “everyone affected by the Palisades fires—those who were injured, lost loved ones, or suffered the loss of homes and livelihoods,” for whom they “grieve with them and pray for their recovery, comfort, and restoration.” The adult son of one of our missionary families was, he reminded us, unrelated his parents’ ministry works but the very power of the diptych that their son created suggested not only a sense o mental disturbance and destructive impulses, but a moralizing take on the nature of fires in the Los Angeles’ divided economy, able to be imagined as s diptych by all who live there, and demand9ing some compartmentalization as a mental strategy for most. If the Baptist evangelicals insisted publicly on clinging in such moment sot “hope while trusting in the justice and mercy of God, who alone can bring good even out of brokenness,” the diptychs commissioned by the Catholic medieval church where diptychs provided a basis for compelling sermons and devotional messages, as Jan van Eycke helped create in the pairing of a scene of the spectators who watched Christ’s crucifixion with apparent disinterest outside of Jerusalem, as the Virgin and Mary weep, with several patrons, of the work, paired with the Last Judgment and detailed hells cape of the torments that are inflicted upon the sinners and damned.

Jan van Eyck, Crucificioin and Last Judgement (1430-40)/Metropolitan Museum of Art

Detail of Hells cape

Jan van Eycke was a landscape artist of consummate perfectionism and details, who had also painted or created a world map for the Flemish court, if not part of his surviving oeuvre, and the mapping of the contrasts of painful suffering, put in the futurity of the terrifying Last Judgement in the Renaissance diptych, seems collapsed to the present of the burning of Los Angeles, a cautionary statement as much as the product of a deviant imagination, offering a moralized vision of the Los Angeles fires to which spectators in the downtown area seem entirely oblivious as they “chill.”

The charge or commission that Rinderknecht gave to ChatGPT was not of a disaster, but a divided canvas, understood in quite pictorial terms, of moral impact. Imagining fires in an urban landscape “divided into distinct parts that blend together seamlessly” is hardly a criminal act. Rinderknecht sought to map the fires to show a featured socioeconomic divide as if the result would be a clearheaded depiction of a socioeconomic divide. He desired a clear contrast between “on the far left, a burning forest” next to which “a crowd of people is running away from the fire” as “hundreds of people in poverty are trying to get past a gigantic gate with a bit dollar sign on it” that symbolized the city’s stark socioeconomic divides: while a “conglomerate of the richest people” relax while “watching the world burn down, and the people struggle” without registering the disaster, “laughing, enjoying themselves, and dancing” per Rinderknecht’s descriptions, asking the chatbot render a nightmarish dream as if for an artistic commission, stipulating that the painting be “detailed and impactful, highlighting the stark contrast and the direct connection between the different parts of the world.” Rinderknecht seems to have sought to make an image that might mend the fences between the glaring economic differences he had trouble living with.

Jonathan Rinderknecht no longer works for Uber, but he must have danced around the Palisades in a dream state of some sort on New Year’s Eve, when he had to drive fares, after watching the kinetic video. He didn’t know that he was setting what would be, after it rekindled from the ashes that had been smoldering after the initial fires were extinguished on New Years Day, no doubt with some annoyance from fire protection folks, but would be on e of the most destructive and deadliest known fires in California history, far beyond the proportions and scale of what Rinderknecht asked ChatGPT to predict, leaving smoldering coastal properties in disrepair, and destroying many homes of the less well-off located further inland, creating the modern version of the inferno of the Palisades Fire that caused so much loss. (The alt right news machine took the story as a way to move swiftly into action, noting Rinderknecht’s anti-Trump social media posts and his readiness to link the disaster of the fires that dominated national news to climate change to the conflagrations, as if all climate change activists are closet arsonists, looking for ways of getting away with it and shifting blame to the skies.)

Few morals can be drawn from the fires, if we are still hoping that lessons might be learned. The scale of the fires that raged across 23,000 densely forested and inhabited acres raged with a destruction that Rinderknecht must have followed on social media and television with nagging fears, having asked that least expensive of therapists and attorneys if one is “at fault if a fire is lift [sic] because of your cigarettes?” in hopes to deflect responsibility or agency for the conflagration that spun out of his intentional acts of arson, moving to Malibu, where all those seaside houses were destroyed, Topanga Canyon, and Altadena, where communities were flattened.

Rinderknecht wasn’t wrong when he blamed climate change, but the peripatetic troubled man who had broken up a few years back with a romantic partner and was on medications had been working for a while in the vast service economy of the sprawling city, navigating its economic differences that seemed as if he wanted to peel apart the gaping Lyellian strata in the city that evident to a delivery man for Door Dash and an Uber driver. As he walked on the trail with a lighter in hand after dropping off fares who reported their driver to be angry, he maybe made a bad judgement call in selecting a song on his iPhone–but probably rather intentionally selected an anthemic song that glorified the pyromaniac’s abandon lighting fires in an urban setting that seemed an image of cool. Johanthan Rinderknecht was, of course, listening to ominous soundtrack of the depths of urban alienation on his iPhone of a sleepless, haunted man walking on another urban periphery, probably Paris, wallowing in his sadness and fantasizing lighting fires as he lights up a joint–or lighting fires in trashcans–as he is walking in a poorer boulevard, or what seems one, captivated and entranced by paper fires set in trash cans at which he stares, hoping to get himself thorough a sleepless night or just numb his pain, turned to the image of rage and destruction on another urban periphery.

Un Zder, Un Thé

Un Zder, Un Thé

On the trailhead on which Rinderknecht walked from his car, above the tony sprawling mansions of the Pacific Palisades, Rinderknecht seems to have been lighting things with his own lighter. The spot was later identified as a crime scene on the rocky bluffs overlooking the ocean off the Temescal Ridge Trail, feared begun by revelers, to judge by multiple glass shards of abandoned broken beer bottles where the embers of the fire reignited on January 7,–a week after Rinderknecht lit his own earlier fires with a cigarette lighter, as the “holdover fire” rekindled from its embers.

Black Migliori/New York Times

To be sure, the setting of fires on the urban periphery is not the breaking of Jacquard Looms–and carries far greater consequences in an age when the intentionally setting fires in Southern California forests should face stiff penalties. Rinderknecht may have been a pyromaniac who willfully set fires to either paper or vegetation in a combustible area of the forest trail he let the car for a walk, but he was responsible enough to come to his senses and try to call 911 after starting fires with his lighter in local vegetation, though cell service forced him to retry multiple times.

Will OpenAI include an automated outreach to 911 for certain suspicious queries to ChatGPT in the near future?

The shift in the valuation of homes in the region that seems targeted by Rinderknecht may have an absurd overvaluation, with prices of homes unthinkably unattainable for most Angelenos but also map onto extreme divides of wealth can make it hard to traverse such economic extreme shifts, of almost seismic divides, stressful in the boundaries of inclusion and exclusion they draw of wealth inequality and “haves” and “have nots” that are increasingly common in many American cities, but are in Los Angeles even more hypertrophic at the luxury residences at the edges of forested lands.

Housing tracker: Southern California home prices and rent - Los Angeles  Times

This would be, probably, the least desirable outcome of the pressure that may grow on OpenAI to take responsibility for the fires, as it shifts attention from modes to resolve the underlying reality of the desiccated landscape that global warming and climate change have produced in California–and the fact that fires are almost desired to recur with increased violence in coming years, and the need to expand protective measures in the face of record levels of dryness during the late autumn and winter months.

The need to attribute a sense of human responsibility to one marginalized individual is an odd way to confront the questions we’d been asking about the role of climate change in provoking the fires–but has to be recognized as a perverse attempt to point the finger at a disturbed individual, without whose malicious acts the fires might not have occurred. As we were beginning to turn attention to the many malfunctions and limitations that allowed the fire to spread to rapidly–from problems with water supply, warning systems, and indeed escape routes, some dealt with in an earlier post–gridlock was so intense as a result of the fires’ rapid spread that the Los Angeles Police Department was forced to devote increased attention to clearing roads for the entry of needed emergency vehicles. But the infrastructural problems of the warning systems that should be in place and the firefighting tools we should have are displaced and the weight of responsibility is focussed on the shoulders of a bad actor–perhaps obscuring and hardly helping how we remember the devastating consequences of the fires’ destructive spread or questions of future fires’ prevention.

Deeply alone, per reports, and probably feeling as dark as the nation after Trump’s victory, perhaps the request for a diptych of a scene of a fire of “two parts”–“on one side of the gate and the entire wall is a conglomerate of the richest people, . . . [who are] chilling, watching the world burn down, and watching the people struggle” was almost a projection of his sense of torment in a city whose neighborhoods are so starkly divided by wealth. The notion of “watching the world burn down” was what much of the nation was feeling it was doing, as the greatest fire in California burned, leveling 23,00 acres, as he was listening to an anthem of urban alienation, filled with the idea of how the residents of LA existing in split reality,–perhaps the most successful aspect of the painting ChatGPT generated for him.

Credit: Department of Justice

The prosecutors who released the generated images of a destroyed city seemed convinced that they presented a tight case against him, if they didn’t need to add much to fact that he was watching images of a stoned rapper lighting fires with abandon in urban streets in the glare of streetlamps, iPhones, and headlights of oncoming cars in a late-night urban landscape of increased disorientation and quick cuts of a modern flâneur in its combination of alienation and curiosity of distanced bemusement at the nocturnal street life around him, in which the iPhone is in a sense his only weapon of defense. Jonathan Rinderknecht had, in fact, become. While the moral valence of the flâneur who is a disinterested observer of urban life, who wanders the streets in search of interest, was taking advantage of the keen awareness of the new spaces of modernity for Benjamin or for Charles Baudelaire, albeit expeeriencing a deep for alienation to which the city seems to give rise, Rinderknecht clearly took advantage of his car as he returned to the scene of the crime to contemplate his act: he drove the car back, without passengers, no longer working for Uber, following the fires engines back to the approach the site where the flames were already spreading, hoping that they’d extinguish them after being alerted by his emergency call, if not sensors. Was he not only anticipating the spectacle of spreading conflagrations as consuming property with abandon as he took video on his iPhone from near the spreading fire, coming within thirty feet of its flames to judge by his GPS, as if a moth drawn back to a flame? While we consider the pyromaniac unhinged from reality, the return must have been rather compulsive for one who set the fire, as if to be flooded with some weird rush of emotions as he watched the results of his own handiwork, engaging in the urban environment in distinctly new unexperienced ways.

His very spectatorship of the fiery destruction of this exclusive area of Los Angeles made him a flâneur of urban disaster,–not a new type of flaneur, if one that anticipated the spectatorship of the Palisades fires LA residents watched with newfound disempowerment,–stunned ifpassive before the real-life urban spectacle beyond anything they saw on their television screens, rekindled by hurricane-force winds as it spread beyond the Palisades across 23,000 acres to Topanga Canyon and Malibu–pricey locales to live indeed–as well as Altadena, leveling 6,000 structures and actually clearing multiple communities without much distinction of class, even if it seemed to be targeting the superrich living in Pacific Palisades–the name by which the fire became known. The sense of a watching the actualities of such apocalyptic realities unfold in real time was of course different than the scale of spectatorship of the fires that would rekindle form the fire he set, but he was consuming the information he perhaps might have heard on the radio in all its visual intensity, viewing not the effects of the fire’s spread or its map but the flames he had imagined at first hand, as one hears a pyromaniac is vertiginous before, as if it was a sight of the city, even as he tried rather desperately to distance himself from it, by trying to claim he was hardly at fault legally for having created anything like an actual loss of property:

For when heavy winds whipped up the flames believed to be extinguished on January 7, just in time for Trump’s inauguration, the embers of the Lachman Fire he lit bounced back to create the apocalyptic scenes he had asked GPT to imagine, if the truly dark clouds from which all those imagined people flee, running past what seems an emergency vehicle, seem walled off in a dystopia land of Rinderknecht’s earlier creation, walled off from the utopic image of the city whose residents seem to go about their business at a safe remove from the growing conflagration. The billowing smoke that blanketed forested lands’ skies in the generated image below were perhaps so triggering to compel OpenAI to issue a public statement, disclaiming any culpability for providing these “pictures” of apocalyptic reality that seemed to envision the disaster of the Palisades Fires in almost biblical terms as the end of an empire. The OpenAI team was making sure everyone knew it was absolved of responsibility, for providing that image months before the fire began in a “dystopian painting showing in part a burning forest” as residents flee the specter of spreading flames, desperately doing their best to escape death and destruction by “running away from the fire.”

The images OpenAI allegedly generated for the wayward Uber drive certainly seemed a smoking gun of sorts, to use the completely wrong metaphor that might make one’s hair stand on end: the public release of search histories, web searches, text messages and the like have become the norm for looking for clues to solve a crime, and if the identification of the Palisades fires with arson made it a crime, the dystopia images Rinderknecht asked the virtual chatbot Rinderknecht seems to have regarded as a privileged interlocutor in a dark personal time can’t be reasonably treated as privileged within the penumbra of privacy, if the examination of one’s history of generating obscene images of global disaster–more serious than online pornography?–are certainly admissible in court. The search of search histories may be undisputed as a way to gather information about criminal sources, and is not breaking into the office of a psychiatrist, but Rindeknecht seems, as many, to have regarded ChatGPT as a psychiatrist or therapist of sorts.

The accusation of premeditation seems evident from the apocalyptic images of the black plumes blanketed Los Angeles the region’s once blue skies with smoke of dangerously high levels of fine particulate matter (PPM 2.5) from several wildfires that were spreading into the surrounding hills,–prompting warnings from health agencies as the AQI index rose to 400 or 500 near the fires and “hazardous” within five miles of the fires, and “unhealthy” for the entire city–until those high winds blew the dangerously high levels of smoke away within the week, ending school shutdowns and public health warnings that seemed like COVID all over again.

Smoke from a wildfire blankets the sky above Venice Beach in Los Angeles. Air quality in the region is unhealthy because of several wildfires burning.

Venice, CA, covered by smoke from Palisades fire, January 8 2025/Jae C. Hong (AP)

Environ. Sci. Technol. Lett. 2025, 12, 8, 911-917

The static nature of the computer generated image that seemed to forecast all this apocalypse used eerily similar colors. The canvasses that it generated in multiple possible options–did he make his request multiple times?—was so epic in scope it hardly revealed active running of individuals; those standing to the right, with hindsight, can hardly be looked at without imagining them as spectators of the very sort Rinderknecht would turn out to be as he drove back to visit the fire as it spread along the trail he had taken a short walk after dropping off his ride, positions known by his GPS.

The rather generic images that may offer a window to his intentions are in fact strikingly dispassionate, as might be expected for a computer generated image, with little sense of a viewer, so much as recycling imagery from other sources by an algorithm that suggests meeting a set of rather complex specifications to translate quickly into visual form. The virtual “paintings” don’t suggest any emotions, if they are oblivious to the surroundings, hardly seem to be “chilling” in a state of relaxation, if the search engine did add copious waterfalls that suggest the opportunity to “chill” was close at hand. (One wonders how many paintings ChaptGPT is asked to generate for its users, and the remove of the act of “painting” from a backlit screen. Such are among the multiple hazards of commissioning paintings from ChatGPT.)

Credit: Department of Justice

The artificially generated flames to gain such eery resonance even in an image that that OpenAI to remind folks that they fully cooperate with law enforcement following the discovery and that the imagery their app generated did not include any content that went against the company’s policies and best practices. The idea that the generation imagery of a city being destroyed–or even the obliviousness of half a society to the burning of what might be the “whole world”–would place it at fault may seem perverse, but the generation of fictive landscape that somehow have a purchase on the realities we later experience may seem like the virtual images had given him a plan. The fire seemed as if it was somehow something cleansing and redemptive to him, to judge by recent reports, and the generation of an apocalyptic scene of the world’s destruction was not only “dystopian” but seemed about a deep disconnect, if the laughing wealthy of the anonymous conglomerate on the right of the diptych are not clearly “chilling” and enjoying the world burn, but the GPT engine has a hard time with portraying pleasure, if it quickly generates fictional images of cities being destroyed by flames.

Credit: Department of Justice

The generated images of course remind us of the very contrast between fragility and permanence, deep contingencies of built environments, even if fire seems weirdly walled off rom the city to the right, its wealthy residents almost oblivious to the truly Dantesque images of all those small beings in a tortured landscape on the left, that was made at the request of the twenty-nine year old arsonist, who will have a hard time arguing that he didn’t ideate and have any intent to set a fire this large, or to do so in ways that would reflect on the deep social divides of the modern American city that are so strikingly clear in Los Angeles–incarnated by that weird virtually generated wall that Rinderknecht seems to have requested figure so prominently in the images of destruction that he very much wanted to see, and then seems to have sought to start.

The progression of the fire almost seems to taunt the infrastructure of that ideal city that stands to the right, as if to show the underlying pain that exists at the same time at great proximity–and the fragility of an actual dividing line between them, that seems a divide not only of property but an insurmountable wall between emotional states. The ChatGPT search engine is good at making the conglomerate from architectural models, and the pleasure of “chilling” seems to have been captured by snow-capped mountains or what seems a landlocked iceberg that floats beside the skyscrapers of the city that looks only a bit like downtown LA–but those black clouds and fleeing humans look downright medieval, as if the global destruction Rinderknecht asked be generated was apocalyptic indeed.

Credit: Department of Justice

The contrast between those dark skies and the blue skies above the skyscrapers and factories that belch out computer generated columns of smoke can hardly compete with the intensity of the black skies over the left half of the “painting” that seem malbolgeian, and may well be about the future of a catastrophe enabled by the failure to take adequate protective measures in the face of climate change. We do seem to be facing some very hight walls indeed, by which we are pressed from both sides, as the people in the final image, who seem to find no pleasant situation between the incandescent blazes and the chilly box structures, where the appearance of the fires seems to have no clear origin, but is rather an existential condition, as they engulf the city with flames as much as fireballs, in a condition that seems no one will leave, even if this one seems to be set.

The phenomenon of the fire on the margins of woodlands that are increasingly flammable seem terrifyingly somewhat endemic to the expansion of California cities into what is called the “woodlands-urban interface,” as a region of greater dangers to incendiary disaster. But the spread of panorama of urban ties that suggested the dangers of densely populated regions made them an extremely popular conceit of the panoramas that traveled round the country in mid-nineteenth century America, as if in an antebellum sort of internet, providing pictures of far away pleasures and terrors. Such panorama regularly featured the heightened vulnerability of cities’ lower classes to such “urban disasters”, including the firemen made up by members of lower classes, and recent immigrants, as well as those perennial thrill-seekers who approached too close to watch fires spread.

The occurrence of a conflagration amidst the panorama being unscrolled became a stock object due to techniques of lighting and stock tools of dramatic staging as they punctuated touristic itinerary and narratives to reveal sudden urban dangers, offering thrills with warnings to audiences in Buffalo or Lowell, Massachusetts of the dangerous lives of city-dwellers: despite the reassurance that when “a fire occurs in any part of the city, the men at the bells readily know the district in which it is situated and they make the number of the district known to the fireman, by the number of strokes on each bell,” in a reliable system of communication than what existed for the Palisades Fires, panoramas apologized “we see here some of the bustle and confusion and fleeing that is attendant upon a fire, . . . we don’t hear any of the noise. This is not represented on the Painting.” Few paintings can even communicate the sense of individual travail and desperation, if the paintings of Rome burning in 64 AD seems to have come closest to trying to convey as much in the gestures–

Nocturnal Capriccio of Rome Burning, Pierre-Jacques Volaire (1767)

—if the disproportionate nature of Neronic obliviousness to the suffering of the may seemed the basis of Renderknecht’s request–and the rumors that Nero had the fire set himself seems oddly echoed in the sense that the AI generated images prove Rinderknecht’s guilt, evidence of the Uber driver’s confusion of virtual reality with actual fire risk in the Palisades. Mid-nineteenth-century theatrical display of diorama vicariously conveyed the sense of urban spectatorship, however, in vivid ways, that made them a traveling business of sorts for canny entrepreneurs, predating disaster flics, unspooling six-feet high scrolled canvasses before paying audiences in a virtual itinerary of urban space that allowed them to be flâneurs of their own, even if located in the safety of a theater in Massachusetts for several hours, exploring the new social topography of the city and its contrasts of wealth and urban poverty in “moving” images that noted the degraded nature of urban environments with abundant theatrical effects–a display of the contrasts of immense urban wealth beside immigrants’ poverty, from opulent buildings of the wealthy residents conspicuous display balanced by theatrically staged sensational conflagrations that spread among wooden houses of densely built cities.

At the same time as the scale of actual conflagrations were widely reported and experienced as terrifying disasters, their apocalyptic nature of fires of untold scale became a feature audiences promised. The adverts for panorama in published advertisements enticed audiences to attend “the grand and sublime spectacle of the BURNING OF THE PARK THEATER!” The suspected arson of tragic events as New York City’ s Tenement Fire of March 1860 and Great Chicago Fire of 1871 provoked panorama to try to capture their devastation in ways vicariously observed across the country, to process the spectacles of such sudden loss of life in urban landscapes; that fires that left uninhabitable burnt areas, destroying the homes and property of many as they were covered by smoke-filled air and ash (of course absent from panorama) seemed as if they were a precipice of modernity that paying audiences entertained.

The hope to raise money for Relief Funds for the fires circulated nation-wide, for many of the same audiences who might have seen the traveling panorama, inviting they comprehend the scale of loss of the massive “Burnt District” of the Great Fire–almost a city within a city–that had spread through six miles of densely packed urban housing and transformed the shores of Lake Michigan to a salvage region of which stunned inhabitants arrived to snap photographs as they contemplated the scale of loss, the problem of responsibility, and the question of how to move forward in 1871. If the ruins of the fire were compared to a form of disaster tourism, leading many to try to experience the fires by going to the city that agencies would offer customers by dedicated trips “with ample time in Chicago for viewing the ruins” as if they might be transformed or reimagined as the ruins of a Grand Tour in Europe, available at cut rate with even greater effect, the new scale of the fire’s destruction that would rival if not displace historic fires in the scale of its tragedy–flames moving faster even that the Great Fire of London that had started on its wharves in 1666, that over three days destroyed the oldest built up area of some of densely packed wooden structures, in a firestorm fanned by winds that challenged current fire-fighting techniques of firebreaks–

–had created huge numbers of homeless in its wake, only later being rebuilt as dominated by broad streets to reduce the hazards of narrow winding paths, and allow firefighters to better fill their tanks in the future.

The problem of confronting the limits of representation also existed for images generated by ChatGPT. The terror, the huge cost of life, and the massive destruction was not something able to be generated, nor the panicked bustle of the fire. Rinderknecht was a pyromaniac who enjoyed watching conflagrations–though generating fictional burning landscapes is hardly a crime in itself, so much as the condition of urban spectatorship. Would he have paused before parking his car after ferrying folks to their New Years celebrations, hoping to close the year with a bang, and not walking up that trail and listening to the song he had probably selected to set fires on what would be his own final Uber ride? In what set a threshold for new levels of paranoia, the official complaint of neighborhood groups representing Palisades victims at a dozen companies, including major utilities as Southern California Edison and phone networks such as Charter Communications and AT&T, related to the delayed response to the fires that rekindled in the Palisades, were filed just after the public announcement of Rinderknecht’s arrest, when federal prosecutors released the ChatGPT diptychs of urban infernos, seemingly designed to push the question of “fault” in relation to the devastating fires into the past.

Nero Watching Rome Burn, Unknown Artist

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Filed under California, climate emergency, Los Angeles Fires, Palisades Fire, wildfire risk

Surfside Ecotones

Shifting from a vision of blissed-out honeybees buzzing around a flowering birch tree in city gardens to the history of those buildings’ individual bricks, Campbell McGrath conjured a distinctly modern melancholy that imagines New York, reduced to an “archipelago of memory.” Taking poetic license to link buildings of man-made bricks once “barged down the Hudson,” from a hinterland of clay pits, quarries, and factories, to the future history of their disintegratation into the Atlantic, he asks we imagine their eventual return to silt: “It’s all going under, the entire Eastern Seaboard,” the Miami-based poet almost exuberantly prophesied, urging that we welcome the impending ecotonal intersection between land and sea that rising temperatures have wrought. As the pollen born on anthers from blossoms of cherry trees to hexagonal cells of their hives, the transience of buildings is not surprising from a poet who lives in a state where sea-level rise is four times the global rate. The atmospheric stresses of coastal condominiums near Miami is in the news again, as the catastrophic destruction is not apocalyptic in its own way.

In evoking the impending retreat of New York from its shores, McGrath imbued a sense of place with the stoic inevitability of monumental cataclysm. Global warming, sings the Miami-based poet, is an inevitability we must learn to welcome. Yet it is hard to acknowledge the inevitability of collapse on shorelines’ ever-changing ecotone. And it is hard to dislodge coastal California from the imagined vacation spot whose climate we could keep in aspic as a holiday space preserved in yellow photographs of old family albums. If Florida always seemed to stand in for salubrity and exceptionalism of sunny weather–its winter beaches promising fun and a promised rejuvenation for the vacationers and elderly alike as if the peninsula promised perpetual summer breezes and an abundance of sun–

Fabulous Florida–COOL in Summer! . . . WARM in Winter!

–where coastal waters promised easy access. The mythic geography that encouraged the construction of untold condominiums along the coast now seems a huge miscalculation. For as sand is eroded from those beaches with sea-level rise, we try to come to terms with an ecotonal shoreline that may not be able, with increased coastal flooding, to sustain their increased weight of condominiums’ coastal views. For saltwater permeation of the subsoil and inland ground risks eroding the very structures built to provide access to the sea, in a rush to build towers by the ocean that preceded the increase of saltwater inundation of the “land,” buildings whipped by hurricanes of unprecedented intensity, and storm surges that move ever more inland, the water table of the entire state is being pushed up in ways that will only remind us how much landfill the coast is actually built on.

We may have collectively adopted an attitude of near resignation at climate change and sea-level rise as intangibles by early 2020, after an unremitting sort of denialism of the “fraud” of climate change; McGrath’s poem preceded the terrifying collapse of the Surfside Towers evoked a shifting map of the nation as the Atlantic rose. The disaster grabbed national attention as the collapse of the residential building on the coast near Miami actually collapsed, pancaking in ways that attracted national alarm. And not for no reason. For the whole of the national seaboard seems compelled to move in exactly the same direction McGrath’s poem that sings of the eventuality of climate change. Leaving Washington, DC, the American Capitol secures more solid grounds in Kansas City and leaves the shores of Washington, DC, leaving “flooded tenements” or houseboats that are “moored to bank pillars along Wall Street.” As the Atlantic rises, few “will mourn for Washington,” and the once densely inhabited seaboard is abandoned, the coast reduced, in this dystopic flight of fancy, leaving the nation forced to shift the capitol to western Missouri in a search for more secure grounds.

The sudden collapse of half of the south tower of Champlain Towers in Surfside, FL, may be less apocalyptic in scope than the eastern seaboard. But it is now impossible to speak of offhand: we are agape mourning residents of the collapsed tower, trapped under the concrete rubble after the sudden pancaking of the southern tower. Without presuming to judge or diagnose the actual causes for the tragic sudden collapse of a twelve story condominium along the shore, the shock of the pancaking of floors of an inhabited condominium raises questions on how the many structural questions that surround Champlain Towers were overlooked. We ask in retrospective whether the certification process is adequate for forty year old concrete weight-bearing structures exposed to far more saltiness and saltwater than they were ever planned to encounter, they also raise questions of the increasingly anthropogenic construction of the coast. While the state of Florida long sold itself to the nation as a beach land–a site of people sprawled on towels soaking up the sun–the fluid nature of the coast as an ecotone bridging land and sea in changeable and changing ways suggests nothing less than the collision course between the increasingly fragile edge-land of the coast with the image of beachfront property that assuredly offers its future residents the health of the shoreline and a view of the sea.

The advertisement in a publication ostensibly dedicated to geographic education offered a map of the state as a map of pleasure, pools, white plaster towers, and folks in bathing suits, picnicking, golfing and playing beachball, as the sun gazed beatifically down on the state’s azure shores: the whole peninsula seemed a beach, or in fact was one, boasting room for all on 1,400 miles of mainland coastline.

“Fabulous Florida,” state advertisement in National Geographic (1952)

Although the realty industry and development business have sold the coastal experience of Florida as access to the shore, that increasingly popular prospect on the tranquil sea, the coast is in fact an ecotone–an intersection of land and sea, and increasingly porous one. We must recognize the coast as an increasingly overbuilt environment, and one poorly mapped as a divide between land and sea. The absence of the shore as a clear line should be more than evident not because of sea-level rise, but the density of shoreline skyscrapers and concrete residences crowding a strip between protected interior wetlands and the shore in southern Florida that is mostly built on former wetlands, but presented as a clear divide between land and see. We have encouraged the construction of a complex of coastal settlement as if it lay on solid ground, in concrete towers that are not impervious to weathering from the ocean air that washes over the shore, as we ignore the coastline’s vulnerability from ocean elements. If the porous nature of land and sea are viewed as problems of the ocean–the adverse effects of agricultural runoff or human waste on ocean currents beset by tidal algal blooms from the late 1970’s–due to agricultural runoff–and apparent in inland lakes, the fragility of the built environments we have made on the shore are not fully mapped for the very consumers sold residences promising ocean views, which are often poorly inspected due to developers’ greed. We have failed to map the coast as an ecotone–or acknowledge the increased permeation of the shore with saltwater, both underground and in the increasingly active weather systems that envelope the shore with saline ocean air, as we imagine the shore to be able to be mapped as a straight line, when it is not.

We continue to map “settlement” and “development” in terms of sold shoreslines, as if they were impermeable and not buffeted themselves. We have long mapped Florida by its beaches, and constructing homes for a market that privileged the elusive and desired promise of a beach view. Despite the allure that the state offers as a sort of mecca of beach settlement, meeting a market by offering vicarious live beach webcams in Florida and refusing, in the 2020 pandemic, to close beaches and beach life that promise an engine of economic activity, or imagine red flags by posing danger signs on the beaches.

Risks are similarly reduced or erased in the practice of coastal development for too long. We long recognized the instability of the shoreline communities, and not only from rising sea-level or surging seas. The lure of the beach continues, denying their actual instability, with the lure of otherworldly qualities as “edges” we imagine ourselves to be exhilarated by, if not released from day-to-day constraints, as a destination promising a new prospect on life.

The long distinction of the state by its beaches–its uncertain edges with the ocean–demand to be mapped and acknowledged as less of the clear line between land and sea than not only a permeable boundary, but of a complex geography vulnerable to both above ground flooding and underground saltwater incursion, sustained exposure to salty air, winds of increased velocity, and an increasing instability of its shores that have long been a site attracting increased settlement. Can one view the ocean surrounding the shores not only as a quiescent blue, but as engaged with the redrawing of the line of the shore itself as a divide long seen as a stable edge of land and sea?

From the increased tensions of hurricanes from the warming oceans, to underground saltwater incursion, to a constant beach erosion and remediation, the beaches we map as lines are coastal environment whose challenges engineers who valued the economy and strength of concrete towers did not imagine. The combination of the influx of salty air, the erosion and replacement of beach “sand”, and increased construction of condominium have created an anthropogenic shore that demands to be examined less as a divide between land and sea than a complex ecotone where salt air, eroding sand, karst, and subsoil weaknesses all intersect, in ways that the mitigation strategies privileging seawalls and pumping stations ignore. As importation of sand for Miami’s “beach” continues, have we lost sight of the increasingly ecotonal organization of Florida’s shores?

Sands from Central Florida Arive with U.S. Army Engineers in January, 2020
Matias Ocner/Miami Herald

The point of this post is to ask how we can best map shifts in the increasingly anthropogenic nature of Miami’s shores to come to terms with the tragedy of Champlain Towers, to seek us to remain less quiescent in the face of the apparent rejiggering of coastal conditions as a result of climate change beyond usual metrics of sea-level rise. For the collapse of Champlain Towers provides an occasion for considering how we map these shores, even if the forensic search for the immediate structural weaknesses that allowed the disaster of Champlain Towers to occur.

Miami Beach has the distinction of the the lowest site in a state with the second-lowest mean elevation in the nation, and ground zero of climate change–but the drama of the recent catastrophic implosion of part of Champlain Towers should have become national news as it suggested the possible fragility of regions of building that are no longer clearly defined as on land or sea, but exist in complex ecotones where the codes of concrete and other building materials may well no longer apply–or, forty years ago, were just not planned to encounter. While we have focussed on the collapse of the towers with panic, watching the suddenly ruptured apartments akin to exposed television sets of everyday Americans’ daily lives, the interruption of the sudden collapse of the towers is hard to process but must be situated in the opening of a new landscape of climate change that blurs the boundary between land and sea, and challenges the updating of building codes for all coastal communities. The old building codes by which coastal and other condominiums were built by developers in the 1970s and 1980s hardly anticipated to being buffeted by salty coastal air, or having their foundations exposed to underground seepage or high-velocity rains: the buildings haven’t budged much, despite some sinking, but demand to be mapped in a coastal ecotone, where their structures bear stress of potential erosion, concrete cracking, and an increased instability underground, all bringing increased dangers and vulnerabilities to the anthropogenic coast in an era of extreme climate change.

Rescue Workers in Surfside Disaster Attempt to Find Survivors in Champlain Tower South

A small beachside community bordering the Atlantic Ocean just north of Miami Beach, on a sandy peninsula surrounded by Biscayne Bay and the Atlantic, the residential community is crowded with several low-rise residential condominiums. While global warming and sea-level rise are supposed to be gradual, the eleven floors of residential apartments–a very modest skyscraper–that collapsed was immediate and crushing, happening as if without warning in the middle of the night. As we count the corpses of the towers residents crushed by its concrete floors, looking at the cutaway views of eerily recognizable collapsed apartments, we can’t help but imagine the contrast between the industry and care with which bees craft their hives of sturdier wax hexagons against the tragedy of the cracked concrete slab that gave way as the towers collapsed, sending multiple floors underground, in a “progressive collapse” as vertically stacked concrete slabs fell on one another, the pancaking multiplying their collective impact with a force beyond the weight of the three million tons of concrete removed from the site.

This post seeks to question if we have a sense of the agency of building on the shifting shores of Surfside and other regions: even if the building codes for working with concrete have changed –and demand changing, in view of the battering even reinforced concrete takes from hurricanes, marine air, flooding, and coastal erosion and seawater incursion near beachfront properties–we need a better mapping of the relation of man-made structures and climate change, and the new coasts that we are inhabiting in era of coastal change, far beyond sea-level rise.

Champlain Towers
Chandan Khanna/AFP

As we hear calls for the evacuation of other forty-year old buildings along the Florida coast, it makes sense to ask what sort of liability and consumer protection exists for homeowners and condominium residents, who seem trapped not only in often improperly constructed structures for an era increasingly vulnerable to climate emergency, but inadequate assurances or guarantees of protection. We count the corpses, without pausing to investigate the dangers of heightened vulnerability of towers trapped in unforeseen dangers building in coastal ecotones. Indeed, with the increased dangers of flooding, both from rains, high tides, storm surges, and rising sea-lelel, the difficulty of relying on gravity for adequate drainage has led to a large investment in pumping systems in the mid-beach and North Miami area. The sudden collapse of the building, which civil engineers have described as a “progressive collapse,” as occurred in lower Manhattan during the destruction of New York’s World Trade Center, the worst fear of an engineer, in which after the apparent cracking of the structural slab of concrete under the towers’ pool, if not other structural damage. The thirteen-story building, located steps from the Atlantic ocean, was part of the spate of condo construction that promised a new way of life in the 1970s, when the forty year-old building was constructed; although we don’t know what contributed to the collapse that was triggered by a structural vulnerability deeper than the spalling and structural deterioration visible on its outside, the distributed liability of the condominium system is clearly unable to cope with whatever deep structural issues led to the south tower’s collapse.

Americans who hold  $3 trillion worth of barrier islands and coastal floodplains, according to Gilbert Gaul’s Geography of Risk, expanding investment in beach communities even as they are exposed to increased risk of flooding–risks that may no longer be so easily distributed and managed among condominium residents alone. And the collapse of the forty year old condominium tower in Surfside led to calls for the evacuation and closure of other nearby residences, older oceanfront residences vaunted for their close proximity to “year-round ocean breezes” and sandy beach where residents can kayak, swim, or enjoy clear waterfront. The promise that was extended by the entire condominium industry along the Florida coast expanded in the 1970s as a scheme of development that was based on the health and convenience of living just steps from the Atlantic Ocean, offering residences that have multiplied coastal construction over time. While the tragic collapse suggests not only the limits of the condominium as a promise of collective shouldering of liabilities, it also reminds us in terrifying ways of the increased liabilities of coastal living in an age of overlapping ecotones, where the relation between shore, ocean spray, saltwater incursion, and are increasingly blurred and difficult to manage in an era of climate change–as residences such as the still unchanged splashpage of Champlain Towers South itself promise easy access to inviting waters that beckon the viewer as they gleam, suggested exclusive access to a placid point of arrival for their residents that developers still promise to attract eager customers.

Although the shore was one of the oldest forms of “commons,” the densely built out coastal communities around north Miami, the illusion of the Atlantic meeting the Caribbean on Miami’s coasts offers a hybrid of private beach views and public access points, encouraging the building of footprints whose foundations extend to the shores, promising private views of the beach to which they are directly facing, piles driven into wetlands and often sandy areas that are increasingly subject to saltwater incursion. The range of condominiums on offer that evoke the sea suggest it is a commodity on offer–“surfside,” “azure,” “on the ocean,” “spiaggia“–as if beckoning residents to seize the private settlement of the coasts, in a burgeoning real estate market of building development has continued since the late 1960s, promising a sort of bucolic resettlement that has multiplied coastal housing developments of considerable size and elevated prices. Is the promise to gain a piece of the commons of the ocean that the real estate developers have long promoted no longer sustainable in the face of the dangers of erosion both of the sandy beaches and the concrete towers that are increasingly vulnerable not only to winds, salt air, and underwater inland flow, but the resettlement of sands from increased projects of coastal construction?

If collapse of the low-rise structure that boasted proximity to the beach may change the condo market, the logic of boasting the benefits of “year-round ocean breezes,” has the erosion of the coast and logic of saltwater incursion in a complex ecotone where salty air, slather flooding, and poor drainage may increasingly challenge the stability of the foundations of the expanding market for coastal condos–and to lead us to question the growing liability of coastal living, rather than investing in seawalls and beach emendation in the face of such a sense of impending coastal collapse, as the investment in concrete towers on coastal properties seem revealed as castles in the sand.

If the architectural plans for the forty-year-old building insured adequate waterproofing of all exposed concrete structures, in an important note in the upper left, the collapse left serious questions about knowledge of the structural vulnerability in the towers, whose abundant cracking had led residents to plan for reinforcement. The danger that Surfside breezes sprayed ocean air increased the absorption of chloride in the concrete over forty years that it cracked, allowing corrosion of the rebar, and greatly weakening the strength of supporting columns that had born loads of the tower’s weight, significantly weakening the reinforced concrete. The towers had been made to the standards of building codes of an earlier era, allowing the possible column failure at the bottom of the towers that engineers have suggested one potential cause for collapse in ways that would have altered their load-bearing capacity–the lack of reinforced concrete at the base, associated with the collapse of other mid-range concrete structures often tied to insufficient support and reinforced concrete structures. The dangers of corrosion of concrete, perhaps compounded by poor waterproofing, of cast in place concrete condominium towers in the 1970s with concrete frames suggest an era of earlier building codes, often of insufficient structuring covering of steel, weaknesses in reinforced concrete one may wonder if the weathering of concrete condominiums could recreate between columns and floors–and potential shearing of columns to the thin flat-plate slabs whose weight they bore, creating a sudden vertical collapse of the interior, with almost no lateral sideways sway.

Courtesy Town of Surfside, FL
Champlain Towers
Chandan Khanna/AFP

Even as we struggle to commemorate those who died in the terrifying collapse of a residential building, where almost a hundred and sixty of whose residents seem to be trapped under the collapsed concrete ruins of twelve floors, we do so with intimations of our collective mortality, that seems more than ever rooted in impending climate disasters that cannot be measured by any single criteria or unique cause. The modest condo seems the sort of residence in which we all might have known someone who lived, and its sudden explosive collapse, without any apparent intervention, raises pressing questions of what sort of compensation or protection might possibly exist for the residents of buildings perched on the ocean’s edge. Six floors of apartments seem to have sunk underground in the sands in which they will remain trapped, in sharp contrast to the bucolic views the condominium once boasted.

Miami Beach Coast/Alamy

While the apparent seepage in the basement, parking garage, and Champlain South that ricocheted over social media do not seem saltwater that seeped through the sandy ground or limestone, but either rainwater or pool water that failed to drain adequately, the concrete towers that crowd the Miami coastline, many have rightly noted, have increasingly taken a sustained atmospheric beating from overlapping ecotones of increased storms, saltwater spray, and the underground incursion of saltwater. If the causality of the sudden collapse twelve stories of concrete was no doubt multiple, the vulnerability to atmospheric change increased the aging of the forty year old structure and accelerated the problems of corrosion that demand to be mapped as a coastal watershed.

The bright red of coasts in the below map seems to evoke a danger sign that is intended to warn viewers about heightened increased consumer risk, from the Gulf Coast to Portland to Florida to the northeast, as sustained exposure to corrosive salt increased risk to over-inhabited coasts, particularly for those renting or owning homes in concrete structures built for solid land but lying in subsiding areas along a sandy beach. Indeed, building codes have since 2010 depended on the gustiness of winds structures would have to endure and not only along the coast, as this visualization of minimum standards across the state–mandating the risks coastal housing needs to endure–a green cross-hatched band marking new regions added to endure 700-year gusts of wind, inland from Miami.

Gusts Required Residences to Endure by Minimum Building Codes since 2010

Florida received a low grade for its infrastructure from the incoming administration of President Biden–he gave the state a “C” rather grudgingly on the nation’s report card as he promoted the American Jobs Plan in April, focussing mostly on the poor condition of highways, bridges, transit lines, internet access, and clean water. The shallow karst of the Biscayne aquifer is a huge threat to the drinking supplies of the 2.5 million residents of Miami-Dade County, but the danger of residences has been minimized, it seems, by an increasingly profitable industry of coastal building and development. While incursion of saltwater inland remains a threat to potable water, the structural challenges of the new As coastal Floridians have been obsessed with working on pumps to empty flooded roads to offshore drains, clearing sewer mains, and moving to higher grounds, the anthropogenic coastal architecture of towering condominiums offering oceanfront views have been forgotten as a a delicate link whose foundations and piles bear the brunt of the ecotonal crossfire of high winds, saltwater, and salty air that contributed to the “abundant cracking” of concrete that is not meant to withstand saltwater breezes, underground incursion, or the danger of coastal sinkholes in the sandy wetlands where they are built.

It is hard to look without wincing at a visualization designed to chart cost effectiveness by which enhanced concrete would mitigate the damage of hurricanes and extreme weather to coastal communities.

The below national map colors much the entire eastern and southeastern seaboard red, as a wake-up call for the national infrastructure. In no other coastal community are so many concrete structures so densely clustered than Florida. If designed and engineered for land, they are buffeted by salty air on both of its shores, from the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic; wind speeds and currents make the coast north of Miami among the saltiest in the world–as high winds can deliver atmospheric salts at a rate of up to 1500 mg/meter, penetrating as afar as one hundred miles inland that will combine with anthropogenic urban pollutants from emissions to construction–creating problems of coastal erosion of building materials, as much as the erosion of beaches and coast ecosystem threatened in Miami by what seems ground zero in sea-level rise, and, as a result, by saltwater incursion, and indeed the atmospheric incursion of salty air–concentrations of chloride that is particularly corrosive to concrete.

And is the exposure of concrete structures across southern Florida to salty air destined to increase with trends of rising sea-levels, already approaching five inches, and projected to deviate even more from the historical rate along the coast, exposing anthropogenic structures from skyscrapers to residences to increased flow of saltwater air?

Dr. Zhaohua Wu, FSU

We are all mourning the collapse of the Surfside FL condominium whose concrete pillars were so cracked and crumbling to expose rusted rebar exposed to salt air. Built on a sandbar’s wetlands, reclaimed as prime property, the town seems suddenly as susceptible to structural risk akin to earthquakes, posing intimations of mortality fit for an era of climate change. The collapse of the southern tower in the early morning of pose questions of liability after the detection of the cracked columns, “spalling” in foundational slabs of cement that allowed structural rebar within to deteriorate with rust that will never sleep. Its collapse poses unavoidable questions of liability for lost lives and unprecedented risk of the failure to respond to concrete cracking, but the ecotonal nature of the Florida shore, whose stability has been understood only by means of a continuing illusion as a clear division between land and sea, as if to paper over the risk of a crumbling shore, where massive reconstruction projects on its porous limestone expose much of the state to building risk of sinkholes and the sudden implosion or subsidence of the sandy shore in a county that was predominantly marshlands, and the inland incursion of salty air that make it one of the densest sites of inland chloride deposition–up to 8.6 kg/ha, or 860 mg/sq meter–and among the most corrosive conditions for the coastal construction of large reinforced concrete buildings facing seaward.

Miami building collapse: What could have caused it? - BBC News

While coastal subsidence may have played a large role in the sudden instability of the foundations that led the flat concrete slab on which the pool to crack, and leak water into the building’s garage in the minutes before it collapsed, the question of liability for the sudden death of Surfside residents must be amply distributed. For the question of liability can be pinned to untimely review process, uncertainty over the distribution of costs for repairs to condominium residents, and the failures of proper waterproofing of concrete as well as a slow pace of upkeep or repairs, the distributed liability raises broad questions of governance of a coastal community. The proposed price of upkeep of facade, inadequate waterproofing, and pool deck of $9.1 million were staggering, but the costs of failure to prevent housing collapse are far higher–and stand to be a fraction of needed repairs for buildings across Miami-Dade County over time.

The abundance of concrete towers in Miami-Dade county alone along the coast poses broad demands of hazard mitigation for which the Surfside tragedy is only the wake-up call: the calls from experts in concrete sustainability at MIT’s Concrete Sustainability Hub (CSHUB) for a reprioritization of preparation for storms from the earliest stages of building design has called fro changes in building codes that respond to the need for increased buffeting of coastal concrete buildings, arguing that buildings should be designed with expectations of increased damage on the East and Gulf coasts that argue mitigation should begin from the redesign of cement by a better understandings of the stresses in eras of climate change that restructuring of residential buidings could greatly improve along the Florida coast–especially the hurricane-prone and salt incursion prone areas of Miami-Dade county both by the design of cement by new technologies and urban texture to allow buildings to sustain increased winds, flooding, and salt damage. Calculated after the flooding of Galveston, TX, the calculation of a “Break Even Mitigation” of investing in structural investment of enhanced concrete was argued to provide “disaster proof” homes, by preventing roof stability and insulation, as well as preventing water entry, and saltwater corrosion in existing structures, engineering concrete that is more disaster resistant fro residential buildings in ways that over time would mitigate meteorological damage to homes to be able to pay for themselves over time; the “Break-Even Mitigation Percent” for residential buildings alone was particularly high, unsurprisingly, along the southern Florida coast.

MIT Concrete Sustainability Hub (CSHub)

1. Although discussion of causes of its untimely collapse has turned on the findings of “spalling,” ‘abundant” cracking and spiderwebs leading to continued cracks in columns and walls that exposed rebar to structural damage has suggested that poor waterproofing exposed its structure to structural damage, engineers remind us that the calamity was multi-causal. Yet it is hard to discount the stresses of shifting ecotones of tides, salty air, and underground seepage, creating structural corrosion that was exacerbated by anthropogenic pollution. The shifting ecotones create clear surprises for a building that seems planned to be built on solid ground, but was open to structural weaknesses not only from corrosion of its structure but to be sinking into the sandy limestone on which it was built–opening questions of risk that the coastal communities of nation must be waking up to with alarm, even as residents of the second tower are not yet evacuated, raising broad questions of homeowner and consumer risk in a real estate market that was until recently fourishing.

The apparent precarity of the pool’s foundations lead us to try to map the collapsed towers in the structural stresses the forty year old building faced in a terrain no longer clearly defined as a separation between land and sea, either due to a failure of waterproofing or hidden instabilities in its foundations. And despite continued uncertainty of identifying the causes for the collapse of the towers, in an attempt to gain purchase on questions of liability, the tower’s collapse seems to reflect a zeitgeist of deep debates about certainty, the anxiety with which we are consuming current debates about origins of its collapse in errors of adequate inspection or engineering may conceal the shaky foundations of a burst of building on an inherently unstable ecotone? While we had been contemplating mortality for the past several years, the sudden collapse. of a coastal tower north of Miami seemed a wake-up call to consider multiple threats to the nation’s infrastructure. Important questions of liability and missed possibilities of prevention will be followed up, but when multiple floors of the south tower of the 1981 condominium that faced the ocean crumbled “as if a bomb went off,” under an almost full moon, we were stunned both by the sudden senseless loss of life, even after a year of contemplating mortality, and the lack of checks or–pardon the expression–safety nets to the nation’s infrastructure.

The risks residents of the coastal condominium faced seemed to lie not only in failures of inspection and engineering, but the ecotonal situation of the overbuilt Florida coast. Residents seemed victims of the difficulties of repairing structural compromises and damage in concrete housing, and a market that encouraged expanding projects of construction out of concrete unsuited to salty air. As much as sea-level rise has been turned to visualize the rising nature of risk of coastal communities that are among the most fastest growing areas of congregation and settlement, as well as home ownership, the liability of the Surfside condominium might be best understood by how risk is inherent in an ecotone of overlapping environments, where the coast is not only poorly understood as a dividing line between land and water, but where risk is dependent on subterranean incursion of saltwater and increasing exposure inland to salt air, absent from maps that peg dangers and risk simply to sea-level rise? The remaining floors of the partly collapsed tower were decided to be dismantled, but the disaster remains terrifyingly emblematic of the risks the built world faces in the face of the manifold pressures of climate change. While we continue to privilege sea-level rise as a basis to map climate change, does the sudden collapse of a building that shook like an earthquake suggest the need to better map the risks of driving piles into sandy limestone or swampy areas of coastal regions exposed to risks of underground seepage that would be open to corrosion by dispersion of salt air.

Florida building collapse video: Surfside, FL condo disaster | Miami Herald

The search for the bodies of residents buried under the rubble of collapsed housing continued for almost a full week, as we peered into the open apartments that were stopped in the course of daily life, as if we were looking at an exploded diagram–rather than a collapsed building, wondering what led its foundations to suddenly give way.

Michael Reeves/Getty Images

As I’ve been increasingly concerned with sand, concrete, and the shifting borders of coastal shores, it seemed almost amazing that Florida was not a a clearer focus of public attention. The striking concentration of salts that oceans deposited along the California coast seemed a battle of attrition with the consolidation and confinement of the shores. Long before Central and Southern Florida were dredged in an attempt to build new housing and real estate, saltwater was already entering the aquifer. As the Florida coast was radically reconfigured by massive projects of coastal canalization to drain lands for settlement, but which rendered the region vulnerable to saltwater, risking not only contaminating potable water aquifers, but creating corrosive conditions for concrete buildings clustered along the shores of Miami-Dade County across Fort Lauderdale, Pompano Beach, as much of Florida’s coast–both in terms of the incursion of saltwater and the flow of salty air, that link the determination of risk to the apparent multiplication of coastal ecotones by which the region is plagued, but are conceptualized often only by sea-level rise. Even as Miami experienced a rise in sea-level some six times the rate of the world in 2011-2015, inundating streets by a foot or two of saltwater from Miami to Ft. Lauderdale was probably a temporary reflection of atmospheric abnormality or a reflection of the incursion of saltwater across the limestone and sand aquifer, lying less than two meters underground. Did underground incursion of saltwater combine with inland flow of salty air in dangers beyond tidal flooding in a “hotspot” of sea-level rise? One might begin to understand Surfside, FL as prone to a confluence of ecotones, both an overlapping of saline incursion and limestone and its concrete superstructure, and the deposit of wet chloride along its buildings’ surfaces and foundations, an ecotonal multiplication of risk to the consumers of buildings that an expanding real estate market offered along its pristine shores.

Approximate Inland Extent of Saltwater Penetration at Base of Biscayne Aquifer, Miami-Dade County, USGS 2018

While the inland expansion of saltwater incursion and penetration has become a new facet of daily life in Miami-Dade County, where saltwater rises from sewers, reversing drainage outflow to the ocean, and permeates the land, flooding streets and leaving a saltwater smell in the air, the underground penetration of saltwater in these former marshlands have been combatted for some time as if a military frontline battle, trying to beat back the water into retreat, while repressing the extent of the areas already “lost” to the sea. If the major consequences of such saltwater intrusion are a decay. and corrosion of underground infrastructure as water and sewage pipelines, rather than the deeply-set building foundations of condominiums that are designed to sustain their loads, the presence of incursion suggests something like a different temporality of the half-life of concrete structures that demands to be examined, less in terms of the damage of saltwater incursion on building integrity, than the immersion of reinforced concrete in a saline environment, by exposing concrete foundations to a wetter and saltier environment than they were built to withstand, and exposing concrete to the saline environment over time.

As much as we have returned to issues of subsidence, saltwater incursion, and other isolated data-points of potential structural weakness in the towers, the pressing question of the temporality of building survival have yet to be integrated–in part as we don’t know the vulnerability or stresses to which the concrete foundations of buildings perched on the seaside are exposed. The very expanse of the inland incursion of saltwater measured in 2011 suggests that the exposure to foundations of at least a decade of saltwater have not been determined, the risks of coastal buildings and inhabitants of the increased displacement of soils as a result of saltwater incursion or coastal construction demands to be assessed. The question of how soils will continue to support coastal structures encouraged by the interest of developers to meet demand for panoramic views of coastal beaches. While the impact of possible instability on coastal condominiums demands to be studied in medium-sized structures, the dangers of ground instability created by increased emendation of beach sand, saltwater incursion, and possible subsidence due to sinkholes. All increase the vulnerabilities of the ecotonal coastline, but only by foregrounding the increased penetration of saltwater, salt air, and soil stability in the increasingly anthropogenic coast can the nature of how ecotonal intersection of land and augment the risks buildings face.

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