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The latest storm continues a trend of "unprecedented battering" by Category 4s and 5s for US territories.
Super Typhoon Sinlaku slammed into the Northern Mariana Islands on Tuesday, causing severe damage to the US-controlled territories that are home to roughly 50,000 people.
According to a Tuesday report from The Associated Press, the typhoon that struck the islands of Tinian and Saipan was the strongest storm recorded so far this year, delivering sustained winds of up to 150 miles per hour.
Saipan Mayor Ramon "RB" Jose Blas Camacho told the AP he was concerned about how the storm's severity was hindering local rescue operations.
"It’s so difficult for us to respond with this heavy rain, heavy wind to rescue people," he said. "Objects are just flying left and right.”
Marko Korosec, a storm chaser and weather forecaster, analyzed satellite images of the storm and predicted the Northern Mariana Islands would be hit with "violent, destructive winds, catastrophic storm surges, giant waves, and flooding rain."
"The damage," he wrote, "will be extreme."
An analysis of the storm written by hurricane scientist Jeff Masters and published by Yale Climate Connections projected that "damage from Sinlaku will be severe on both islands."
Masters also said Sinlaku was just the latest in what he described as an "unprecedented" number of Category 4 and Category 5 typhoons over the last decade, which he attributed to "a combination of natural variability and climate change."
"Beginning in 2017, the US has gotten absolutely hammered by high-intensity Category 4 and 5 hurricanes," Masters explained. "Seven have hit the continental US, one has hit Puerto Rico, and now two have hit the Northern Mariana Islands. That's as many US Cat 4 and Cat 5 landfalls as had occurred in the prior 57 years."
Later in his analysis, Masters pointed out that 10 of the 13 strongest tropical typhoons to make landfall in the last 80 years have occurred since 2006.
A Washington Post analysis of the typhoon published Tuesday noted that it's "unusually early" for a superstorm of this caliber to form in the Pacific, warning it "may be a sign of what's to come" this season.
"The season is expected to be anomalously active because of a burgeoning El Niño, which induces a warming of water temperatures," explained the Post. "That helps air to rise, generating more, and stronger, storms."
The Post added that Sinlaku is "the last in rare set of triplet cyclones that formed this month," which it said is an "unusual pattern" that is "also contributing to a burst of winds that is expected to greatly boost the odds of a super El Niño later this year, pushing warm water west-to-east across the Pacific."
If predictions for a super El Niño are correct, our brief vacation from thinking about climate change as a crucial fact of life on this planet will soon be over.
Every once in a while I have to snap out of the hypnotic grip of the bizarre news cycle and remind myself—and you—that there’s something even more important underway than the obvious mental and moral decline of the president: the relentless rise in the temperature of the planet. So here’s my latest occasional update from the physical world, and I fear the news is not good.
Let’s begin with the immediate past, and stay close to home, because the US has been the center of some of the most extreme meteorological action on planet Earth recently. Consider our winter: Though it was chilly in the Northeast, if you averaged the temperature across the lower 48 it was the second-hottest winter on record. That's because nine states had their hottest winter ever and five their second hottest. As Andrea Thompson pointed out in Scientific American: “Nowhere in the US had a record cold winter this year. Nowhere even came close.”
That winter, by the way, was December, January, and February—what we call “meteorological winter” because it coincides with the coldest quarter of the year. It was outrageously hot and very dry, with severely shrunken snowpacks across the mountains of the West, which made Westerners nervous about the chances for wildfire as the summer wore on.
And then came March.
The havoc unleashed by a super El Niño will coincide with the havoc unleashed by President Donald Trump in the Gulf to produce a perfect storm of support for rapid action on getting off fossil fuels.
March was the single craziest month in US weather history. Here’s how Seth Borenstein put it in the lede of his account for The Associated Press:
March’s persistent unseasonable heat was so intense that the continental United States registered its most abnormally hot month in 132 years of records, according to federal weather data.
The federal government is still collecting weather data (though far less than it used to), and so we know the following remarkable fact according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA):
The average maximum temperature for March was especially high at 11.4°F (6.3°C) above the 20th century average and was almost a degree warmer than the average daytime high for April.
As Bob Henson points out in the Yale-based blog Eye of the Storm:
In 35 of the 48 contiguous states, the statewide average reading was among the top-10 warmest for any March. Not a single contiguous state was cooler than average.
Henson also points out that a lack of rainfall meant it’s so far been the driest year in American history:
The nationally averaged precipitation total for 2026 to date is an ominous one: a mere 4.79 inches. That’s the lowest value on record for any January-to-March interval, including such notoriously dry periods as the Dust Bowl of the 1930s. The previous record low was 5.27 inches, set in Jan.-Mar. 1910.
As Henson’s colleague Jeff Masters succinctly told the AP:
Climate change is kicking our butts
And I fear it’s barely begun the beating. Because over the last two weeks, even as the world has fixed its gaze on the Middle East, meteorologists have been staring in some awe and terror at what appears to be a rapidly building El Niño. I’ve been telling you this is on the way for some months, but it’s coming into ever-clearer focus. NOAA again, in its April forecast, put the odds of a El Niño beginning this summer at better than 60%. More to the point, the wide array of computer models around the planet are beginning to predict a so-called “super El Niño,” when temperatures in the critical region of the Pacific shoot up far far far higher than in the past. Henson and Masters again:
For October, roughly half of the ECMWF ensemble is calling for sea surface temperatures in the main El Niño region (Niño3.4) to exceed 2.5°C above the seasonal average. Such values would correspond to what’s loosely referred to as a “super El Niño.” Though there’s no official definition for a “super” event, the term is often attached to El Niño when its peak anomalies reach at least +2.0°C. Since 1950, the only El Niño events that have hit this threshold for at least one three-month interval were in 1972-73, 1982-83, 1997-98, 2015-16, and 2023-24. Only one of those events, in 2015-16, pushed all the way past +2.5°C.
Here’s a useful graph of the various estimates from the computer modelling, courtesy of Zeke Hausfather:

Basically it reads: a world we haven’t seen before. Because remember, El Niño comes on top of the steadily rising temperature of the Earth. If these forecasts bear out, then possibly 2026 and certainly 2027 will be the hottest years ever recorded on this Earth. As the atmospheric scientist Paul Roundy put it, there’s a “real potential for the strongest El Niño event in 140 years.” We don’t know, of course, exactly how this will manifest, but as Gabrielle Cannon wrote Monday in The Guardian
A super El Niño that occurred in 2015 brought severe drought in Ethiopia, water supply shortages in Puerto Rico, and smashed records after unleashing a vicious hurricane season in the central North Pacific, according to an analysis by US federal scientists.
The cycle tends to create drought and heat across Australia, around southern and central Africa, in India and in parts of South America, including in the Amazon rainforest. Heavy precipitation, meanwhile, could hit the southern tier of the US, parts of the Middle East, and south-central Asia.
I think it’s safe to say that we can expect more weather chaos than we’ve ever seen before (the good folks at Covering Climate Now put together a useful briefing for reporters last week). Here’s my prediction, since my job is to figure out how the physical and political worlds intersect:
The havoc unleashed by a super El Niño will coincide with the havoc unleashed by President Donald Trump in the Gulf to produce a perfect storm of support for rapid action on getting off fossil fuels. Our brief vacation from thinking about climate change as a crucial fact of life on this planet will be over; the conjoined fears of the next months will combine to put us in a very new place politically.
My main fear is that this useful moment is coming very late in the game.
And by that I mean that the last few weeks have also produced a new round of research on the damage that human warming of the Earth is doing to its most basic systems. For simplicity’s sake let’s concentrate on one big system, the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Current or AMOC, that system of currents (like the Gulf Stream) in the Atlantic that are the planet’s biggest heat distribution system.
The collapse of the AMOC has been a recurring nightmare in the climate literature—I first wrote about it in The End of Nature in the 1980s. But the prevailing theory was that it would take a good long while, probably more than a century. In recent years that consensus has been weakening, and the fears of a much more rapid failure of these currents—which keep Europe far warmer than it would otherwise be—have grown rapidly. We’re about a decade out from an ominous paper in Nature that warned that an anomaly in the north Atlantic—a “cold blob” in an otherwise rapidly warming global ocean—could signal that melting ice pouring off Greenland was fatally weakening the currents, by changing the salinity and hence the density of seawater. Research since them has not been comforting, with at least one prominent paper warning the collapse could come as early as the 2030s. Last year Iceland declared an AMOC collapse as a “national security risk,” since the disappearance of the current could turn the temperate country into what one of its foremost experts called “one giant glacier.” It would certainly be a civilizational event for all of Europe.
Anyway, a new paper last week in Science seemed to indicate, with data gathered from four mooring buoys along the western edge of these currents, that there is:
a meridionally consistent decline in deep western overturning transport across these latitudes over the past two decades. This decline, observed at the western boundary, may serve as an effective indicator of AMOC weakening
Here’s how Alec Luhn explained the significance in New Scientist:
The study’s analysis of the latest RAPID-MOCHA data shows that the flow of the AMOC is declining by about 90,000 cubic metres of water per second each year, a faster rate than what has previously been observed. That means between 2004 and 2023, the AMOC weakened by about 10%.
But the uncertainty range of this change in flow is almost as large as the change itself. For this reason, Xin’s study also analyses pressure changes at three mooring arrays that have been installed since 2004 in the western Atlantic off the West Indies, the US East Coast and Nova Scotia, Canada. There, it finds an even greater weakening of the AMOC, with much less uncertainty.
“It is the strongest direct observational evidence so far” that the AMOC is weakening, as models have long shown, says Stefan Rahmstorf at the University of Potsdam, Germany, who wasn’t involved in the research.
Meanwhile, another new and equally ominous paper in Nature late last month showed that a collapsing Atlantic current system would release prodigious amounts of carbon into the atmosphere, thus dramatically increasing overall global warming even as Europe froze. As William Hunter helpfully explained in (of all places) the Daily Mail:
The scientists’ computer simulations revealed that halting this key current will release vast stores of carbon currently trapped deep beneath the ocean.
This would increase the concentration of CO2 in the atmosphere by 47 to 83 parts per million, triggering up to 0.27°C (0.5°F) of additional warming worldwide.
"Our study shows how an AMOC collapse could flip the Southern Ocean from a carbon sink into a carbon source, releasing vast amounts of CO2 and fuelling further global warming," said Johan Rockström, director of the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research, "The ocean has been our greatest ally, absorbing a quarter of human-made CO2 emissions."
The scariest piece of the puzzle in the new study may be the profound, and completely opposite, consequences for the two poles. As the authors put it:
regional temperature anomalies are pronounced: Arctic temperatures cool by ~ 7°C (60°N-90 °N), while Antarctic temperatures warm by ~ 6°C (60°S-90°S).
A world in which the Arctic quickly cooled 12°F just as the Antarctic warmed by 10°F would be a very very different world indeed, one capable of violent change on a scale I don’t really want to imagine. In any event, as Potsdam Institute director Johan Rockstrom explained:
The more CO2 in our atmosphere at the stage of shutdown, the higher the likelihood of additional warming. Put simply, rising emissions today increase the risk of a stronger climate response down the line.
And that’s the one part of the equation we can do something about. We have one tool to keep carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere: the substitution of clean energy for fossil fuel. Our weapons in this fight are solar panels, wind turbines, and batteries. We need to crash them into place before these systems crash down upon us. That’s the job.
The next six months could be the ultimate in teachable moments, with rapidly rising prices for oil, and rapidly rising temperatures.
I am (mostly) going to take a break from writing about the war for a day, because big though it is, it’s not quite the biggest thing happening on our planet. Or rather, its widespread destruction is taking place inside a larger context.
President Donald Trump’s endless folly (first tariffs, now a desperately stupid war that has closed the Strait of Hormuz) has caused what everyone is beginning to understand is widespread economic damage. As The New York Times reported today, “This is the big one,” and “the fallout is rattling households and businesses in neighborhoods all over the globe.”
On a stable planet, though, the damage might be contained and repaired; someone as incompetent as Trump (who is now describing his war as a “short excursion” and insisting that the Strait is in “very good shape”) will eventually (please God) burn himself out. Our bigger problem, as we’re about to be reminded, is that the planet is the furthest thing from stable. The backdrop is about to become the foreground, and with that the drama will shift once more.
It’s already hot, all over the world and here in the United States. That’s been a little hidden these past months, because the country’s population and power center—the northeast corridor from Boston to DC—has had a cold winter; until the last few days of rapid-onset mud season it’s felt like an old-school winter in New England (with sublime skiing, which has kept me sane). And Minnesota, the source of much of the year’s news so far, was cold too, at least in bursts. But we’ve been the exception: in fact, it was the second-warmest winter on record in the continental US, and that’s because the West broke every possible record, usually by a mile:
Several cities can now claim winter 2025-26 as their warmest on record, including locations with over a century of data, like Salt Lake City (152 years of data), Tucson (130 years of data), and Rapid City, South Dakota (114 years of data).
Phoenix, Arizona, obliterated its previous record (a record that was only a year old, mind you) by almost 3°F, a pummeling of a record in the realm of three-month temperature data.
Albuquerque, New Mexico clobbered its previous record warmest winter by 3°F, according to the Southeast Regional Climate Center. Helena, Montana, Las Vegas, and Lubbock, Texas were among the other cities record warm this winter.
I don’t want to brush by those numbers. Phoenix and Albuquerque have temperature records going back more than a century. If they were going to beat the old record for a three-month stretch, something that shouldn’t happen very often, it should be by a tenth of a degree. That’s how statistics work on a set that large—or it’s how they did work on a stable planet. Three degrees is insane. And if that’s insane, then what’s going to happen in the next week is truly bonkers. A giant heat dome is set to settle in over the Southwest, bringing new temperature records. As The Washington Post reported Thursday, Palm Springs California is projected to reach 104°F on Monday; the old record for the date is 95°F. Again, that’s statistically bizarre in a way that makes my head hurt:
This record-breaking heat dome will contribute to worsening drought conditions across the Intermountain West.
In Utah, snowpack remains at record low levels according to Meyer. He said that it would take a foot of snow in Salt Lake City for the season to catch up with even the second-lowest seasonal snowfall total—and that a storm of that magnitude isn’t expected to come.
“The knockout punch comes in the form of Utah’s reservoirs, which are only at 40% of capacity right now,” Meyer said. “All this means we are likely going to see some very tangible water supply cuts and conservation efforts by the state this year.”
The weather forecast and climate outlook community in Utah was “filled with trepidation” because drought relief looked unlikely, added Meyer, stressing that much more meaningful impacts were possible for agricultural communities as water conservation efforts grow.
“Right now, every drop is going to count this year,” he said.
Across the region, New Mexico was also reporting its lowest snowpack on record and Colorado was in a similar situation.
Here’s how Daniel Swain and the good folks at Weather West described the heat dome that is forming as of Friday morning:
In fact: the strongest mid-tropospheric ridge ever observed in the southwestern US in March is expected to develop by Friday, and then will probably go on to break that new record (set this week) when it re-organizes into an even broader and stronger ridge next week.
In case you’re wondering, this heat is in no way confined to land. The oceans, which have soaked up most of the planet’s excess warmth, are crazily warm right now too:
Sea surface temperatures off the coast of Southern California have risen as much as 5°F above average for the time of year, causing a strong, Category 2 marine heat wave to develop.
These unusually warm waters will provide a boost to air temperatures near the coast, especially at night, preventing them from dropping off as much as they otherwise would.
“A strong to severe marine heatwave is ongoing off the coast of California,” wrote Colin McCarthy, a storm chaser affiliated with the University of California at Davis.
In early March, ocean temperatures reached the mid- to upper 60s at Scripps Pier in La Jolla, California.
“That’s the average ocean temperature for mid-June,” McCarthy said.
And here’s the kicker. All this is happening during a La Niña “cool phase” of the Pacific, something that will soon change. I alerted you exactly a month ago to the likelihood we were going to see an El Niño kick off sometime this summer; in the last few weeks the chances of that have grown stronger, and more to the point it looks like it could be an exceptionally strong “super” version of the warming current. The normally cautious-almost-to-a-fault climate scientist Zeke Hausfather came out with his new forecast Thursday afternoon, and it was a doozy:
I’ve collected 11 different models that have been updated since the beginning of March. Each of these in turn features a number of ensemble members, so that we end up with 433 total ENSO forecasts…
These clearly show that a strong El Niño is indeed likely to develop later in the year. While I’d probably discount some of the higher values (much above 3°C) as outliers here, the median and mean across all the models still gives an estimate around 2.5°C, which would put it notably stronger than the 2023-2024 El Niño and close to if not matching what we saw back in 2015-2016.
So what does this mean for global temperatures this year and in 2027? All things being equal, the lag between peak El Niño conditions and the global surface temperature response would result in the largest impacts on 2027 temperatures (as El Niño events generally peak between November and January). It would still boost 2026, but probably not enough to set a new record this year.
However, I have to be a bit cautious here. Long time readers may remember my post in May 2023 where I deemed it unlikely that 2023 would set a new record (given this historical lag in global temperature response to El Niño) and argued that 2024 would instead. I was partially wrong–2023 was weird, and the heat came much earlier than expected. We think the extended triple-dip La Niña event between 2020 and 2023 may have primed the system for more rapid heating, something absent this time around. But we don’t know for sure. Fool me once, and all that.
Either way, this means that 2027 looks increasingly likely to set a new record, perhaps by a sizable margin if we end up on the high end of the range of El Niño forecasts.
That Hausfather and the brasher Jim Hansen are in basic agreement here should terrify us. We’re going to see temperatures unlike any that humans have seen before, which means we’re going to see chaotic weather unlike humans have seen before. If you think this is some kind of lefty enviro fantasy, check out this source:
“Due to the increasing concentration of greenhouse gases, the climate system cannot effectively exhaust the heat released in a major El Niño event before the next El Niño comes along and pushes the baseline upward again,” Defense Department meteorologist Eric Webb said.
Therefore, a super El Niño in 2026-27 would disperse more heat than other very strong events in 1982-83, 1997-98, and 2015-16.
And were not going to know what hit us, in several ways. The substack Future Earth Catalog published an interview Wednesday with veteran Florida weatherman John Morales which was the best account I’ve seen yet of what the Trump cuts to our scientific system mean in real time:
The cuts to NOAA and the National Weather Service have been devastating. If you look at the statistics of forecast accuracy for tropical cyclone tracks and intensities from the National Hurricane Center, they were off in 2025. And anecdotally, I’m not the only meteorologist who will tell you that day-to-day forecasting has become more challenging. The weather models are flip-flopping from one solution to the next.
Think about how many times TV meteorologists in the fall of 2025 had to show you two or three models with different solutions and say, “Well, this is what this model says, but yesterday it was saying something different.” That leads to more confusion among the public—and it makes our job of saving life and property more difficult.
We’ve been missing 15 to 20% of our weather balloon data. And those missing balloons are upstream—out West, in the Plains, in the Intermountain West, and especially in Alaska. That’s where our weather comes from. We’re no longer able to really know what’s going on out there. And nothing provides the detail weather balloons can: every 15 feet, all the way up to 100,000 feet.
So we may not know what’s coming, but we can guess it’s going to be bad. For instance, I noted before that the Western snowpack is at record low levels. Even in California, which, due to a couple of record-level atmospheric rivers off the warm Pacific saw lots of midwinter snow, the early heat in the Sierras has already led to widespread melt. I do not think it’s fear-mongering to warn that fire may be a serious danger this season in the West.
And what’s happening in the US will be paralleled in places around the planet as El Niño takes us up the escalator. A new study just found that rising temperatures are already taking many humans past the point where they can live with any kind of comfort. As Todd Woody reports:
The number of days where extreme heat makes it too dangerously hot to walk the dog, sweep the porch, and engage in other ordinary pursuits has doubled around the world over the past 75 years, according to new research.
Scientists determined that on average, those 65 and older experience a month a year when heat prevents them from routine activities. Parts of Asia, Africa, Australia, and North America are becoming unlivable for senior citizens, the researchers said. Younger adults also are losing time as climate-driven heat restricts their lives for 50 hours a year.
Overall, more than a third of the global population resides in regions where heat severely affects daily life, according to the peer-reviewed paper published Tuesday in the journal Environmental Research: Health.
But it may be getting too hot for some key physical systems too. It seems likely that this is the year the Colorado River system may finally have to deal with the fact that it simply can’t provide the water people have been counting on. A new study last week found clear signs that the Gulf Stream is beginning to drift northward, a “clear sign” that worries about the collapse of the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Current (AMOC) are no mere phantasm:
The findings indicate that the movement of the Gulf Stream could be a “canary in the coal mine” for the AMOC’s collapse. According to their analysis of satellite data, the Gulf Stream has already been nudged northwards from the coast near Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, since the early 1990s. This is likely to be the result of the AMOC dwindling and losing its grip.
We don’t know for sure how the Iran war will play out, nor the El Niño; at the moment, though, things look ominous. All I’m saying is, the next six months could be the ultimate in teachable moments, with rapidly rising prices for oil, and rapidly rising temperatures. And what do you know, we have a midterm exam coming up on November 3.