Wildfires Are Threatening Astronomy, and the Worst Is Yet to Come
NEWS | 28 March 2025
As wildfires grow in severity and frequency, they’re not only threatening lives but also our visual connection to the cosmos Wildfires Are Threatening Astronomy, and the Worst Is Yet to Come Last summer I and many others around the world watched in horror as wildfires reduced nearly a third of the town of Jasper, Alberta, to ashes and incinerated some 150 square miles of the surrounding Jasper National Park. Although I now live and work in Tucson, Ariz., the devastation still felt personal: Jasper is part of a dark sky preserve I helped to create in the Canadian Rockies and is where my wife and I spent nine years building a stargazing tour company and planetarium. The disastrous convergence of two forest fires in late July saw 300-foot-high flames launch charred pine cones and embers out ahead of the blaze. The fire generated lightning strikes and downdrafts as it moved, accelerating the hellish inferno. Roughly 25,000 people fled before the fire hit, and a firefighter died battling it. Unlike some, our business endured, but it was not unscathed: smoke had marred our telescopes and other equipment. Insurance claim estimates for wildfire-related damages in the park may eventually top $1 billion Canadian. On supporting science journalism If you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today. Many cherished views of the cosmos could figuratively go up in flames. Yet as damaging as this event was, it foretells possibly greater harm and disruption. As wildfires have grown in number and intensity in recent years, they have increasingly threatened our ability to see and study the heavens. If we don’t find solutions soon, such blazes could top light pollution as the most pervasive threat to astronomical observation. Many cherished views of the cosmos could figuratively go up in flames. On a mountain summit in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert, a dead oak tree blackened by fire stands about three feet from a dormitory at Kitt Peak National Observatory, where I currently serve as the visitor center operations manager. The charred tree is a reminder of how close an earlier disaster came. A lightning strike in June 2022 sparked a wildfire that swept across the Baboquivari Mountains, destroying four buildings and approaching within dozens of feet of some of Kitt Peak’s 22 major research telescopes. Days after the Jasper tragedy last summer, another wildfire forced pre-evacuation preparations at Kitt Peak, with tarps at the ready to cover telescopes and safeguard equipment. The problem is getting worse. Wildfires have already destroyed several major telescopes at Australia’s Mount Stromlo Observatory. And in 2020 California’s Sierra Remote Observatories came close to destruction from a wildfire that covered telescope optics in ash and debris. During the 2022 wildfire season, I stood with my staff at a stargazing event at the top of the Jasper SkyTram, looking down the valley as fire snaked along the shores of Jasper Lake, 15 miles away. Although that fire never reached the town of Jasper, its smoke sporadically scuttled our views of the heavens for weeks at the Jasper Planetarium. Originating in Alberta, British Columbia, California, and other regions, smoke from such fires can blot out the stars at sites even thousands of miles away. Meteorologist Alan Rahill, whose Clear Sky Chart is a trusted planning tool for astronomical observers, lamented a gloomy forecast to me recently: “For the second half of this century, we won’t see blue sky anymore between March and December. Clear nights will become pretty rare.” Yet there’s hope for those willing to try to adapt. Both professional and amateur astronomy institutions are finding ways to protect against wildfires, their causes and their effects: Kitt Peak is installing specialized detectors to provide early warnings for lightning strikes on the mountain. It has partnered with a local alliance of firefighters, naturalists, ranchers, and others on a master plan for future emergency responses. Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, Ariz., collaborates with local authorities on prescribed burns and strategic firebreaks to protect its grounds. Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles has upgraded its fire-suppression systems and building materials; it closed during the wildfires in January but did not come under direct threat. At the Jasper Planetarium (which has reopened since the July wildfire), we’ve added a radio telescope capable of peering through the murk, offering live radio maps of distant galaxies. Fixing the underlying problem, though, will require orders-of-magnitude more effort than simply adapting to a “new normal” of more—and more intense—wildfires. Bob McDonald, science popularizer, fellow astronomy enthusiast and Order of Canada recipient, points out to me: “The increase in wildfires and droughts around the world is a sign that climate change is no longer an issue for future generations. It is in our face, here and now.” In his recent book The Future Is Now, McDonald argues that COVID shutdowns inspired many to see that we have the tools to reverse climate change through alternative energy, carbon capture and energy storage. “The smoke is a clear signal that it’s time to get on with it and clear our skies, not just for astronomy but for human health,” he told me. Will many people care enough to act if another observatory is destroyed by wildfire? I hope so. Will more people notice if some astronomical research is no longer possible because the skies above some telescopes are too choked with smoke? Maybe. But I fear the wake-up call may only be received too late, when nature lovers gaze up into a summer sky full of ash instead of stars and anxiously ask: “What happened?” This is an opinion and analysis article, and the views expressed by the author or authors are not necessarily those of Scientific American.
Author: Peter Mcmahon.
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