Reading List: Cadillac Desert: The American West and its Disappearing Water

Reisner, Marc. Cadillac Desert: the American West and its Disappearing Water. Rev. and updated. New York: Penguin Books, 1993.
Cadillac Desert is the now classic cry of resistance against a western water policy that considers any water wasted which flows to the sea. Marc Reisner begins his story tracing John Wesley Powell’s journey down the Colorado River. Powell’s now famous report on the “Arid Lands” found that most of the west beyond the 100th meridian could not support agriculture. There was however a large amount of ground water that could be used for irrigation, something he recommended - to a certain extent.
What Powell envisioned was western boundaries that would be drawn around natural resource inventories, not political whim. He also understood that western farmers would require much larger tracts of land to support ranching and agricultural pursuits, than would be required in the east. None of that mattered once the engineers figured out how they could spread that water across the desert, and the politicians learned what great currency water and water projects would become.
So contends Reisner in his engaging and disarming fashion, sometimes so much so that you wonder if he might be playing loose with his assessments. Chicken Little comes to mind: like peak oil, many of the prophecies of doom have yet to come to pass for the west and its thirst for water. Factually, very little water in the west is used for urban, residential and industrial uses. In Idaho, that number is less than five percent. Well over ninety percent of the water used in that state (and many other Western states) is for agricultural purposes. So the trick, among urbanists, is to figure out how to move some of that allotment away from agricultural practices, and toward urban growth. That is no easy matter.
Reisner does not go where say Charles Wilkinson goes in his assessment of the “lords of yesteryear” policies and statutes that guide western land-use - riparian water doctrine, the mining law of 1872, etc. Instead, Reisner walks through the politics of a number of dam projects and their shepherds as he illustrates the fragility of western life.
Chapters include the shenanigans and literal double-dealings that brought water to Los Angeles from the Owens Valley. Another details the rivalry between the Bureau of Reclamation (the byoo-row as some Western farmers derisively refer to the agency) and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. In the “go-go years” as Reisner refers to them, the two agencies, driven by fewer and fewer decent dam sites, often competed to get projects done even if the economics and sometimes the engineering did not make sense.
Even when that was the case, politicians came to use dam projects as high priced chips in log rolling efforts - the, “you support mine and I’ll support yours” game they play in Congress. The Bureau helped this effort when it introduced “river basin accounting” which made cost benefit analysis nearly a slam-dunk when revenues generated from hydropower could be used to offset money losing irrigation projects. Masterful Commissioners like Floyd Dominy (who gets a whole chapter) played Congress like a fiddle, pulling projects away from recalcitrant supporters “like a yo-yo.” Dominy even got a new headquarters building for the Reclamation service by disguising the building as a dam and putting it through a streamlined Congressional appropriations process.
The saddest tale in the book, particularly for Idahoans, is the collapse of the Teton Dam. As in many cases, drought then flood caused local residents to clamor for a government provided solution. Neither drought nor flood caused much damage, still the Bureau sought to provide the classic billion-dollar solution to the million-dollar problem. The real problem however, was that by the time the dam was proposed in the early 1970s, there were few good dam sites remaining in the U.S. Almost needless to say, Reclamation engineers chose an unusually poor site.
Without saying it, Reisner lays fault for the failed dam at the feet of the Bureau. It was the Bureau that chose the site - a site, which on the right side of the river looking downstream, was marred by gigantic fissures that could not be properly grouted. Stalwart dam builders Morrison-Knudsen, which had built Hoover and Grand Coulee Dams among others, built the dam to the Bureau’s specifications and the Bureau ultimately thought the fissures would seal adequately. They did not.
Prevailing wisdom holds that the river flooded into the deep, deep fissures - some were nearly a dozen feet wide and hundreds of feet long - and poured directly back into the earthen dam. The top corner of the dam began to wither away and on the morning of June 5, 1976 workers struggled in vain to dump rip-rap into the dam’s structure and prevent all out collapse. In the end, eleven people died in the resulting flood that brought a six-mile wide river of water and debris in its wake. One city, Wilford, was destroyed completely; it no longer exists. Sugar City and Rexburg suffered enormous damage - $2 billion in total losses counted in part by the loss of 4,000 homes and 350 businesses, and 13,000 livestock animals.
There have been dams built since. Some have even called for a replacement to the Teton Dam. Dam building is big business all over the world often bringing the tripartite benefits of flood control, irrigation water, and inexpensive hydropower. Reisner’s tome though is not one grounded in hope. It is one of folly, one of the dark side of forcing nature to conform to the desires of man. He tells this side of things well, which is no doubt why Cadillac Desert is one of the classics in the oft-documented saga of water in the west.


