Sponsored message
Logged in as
Audience-funded nonprofit news
radio tower icon laist logo
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
Subscribe
  • Listen Now Playing Listen

The Brief

The most important stories for you to know today
  • LMU class uses hook to discuss power, identity
    A feminine presenting person with light skin tone and short dark hair wearing a denim dress stands next to a projector screen with the text that reads "Week 10: Yo Perreo Sola: Gender, Sexuality, and Race in Reggaeton and Latinx Pop Culture Part II." Below the text is a photo of various feminine presenting people posing in front of a red backdrop in front of a chainlink fence.
    Professor Vanessa Diaz teaching a class on Puerto Rican culture and Bad Bunny at Loyola Marymount University.

    Topline:

    A Loyola Marymount University class engages students across race and class by mixing pop-mega star Bad Bunny and the politics of Puerto Rico.

    Why it matters: Colleges are working hard to engage students academically to help them earn a degree while students are seeking deeper personal connections with their classwork.

    What do the students learn: They analyze Bad Bunny’s song lyrics, videos, along with how he blurs the lines between race, gender, and sexuality.

    Is the class just about Bad Bunny? No. Students learn about U.S. territorial dominance over Puerto Rico and how hundreds of years of colonial rule affects life on the island and how it’s perceived.

    What’s the backstory: This, like ethnic studies classes, engages students by encouraging them to bring their own experiences to the classroom discussions and assignments.

    News that Loyola Marymount University offered a class titled “Bad Bunny and Resistance in Puerto Rico” spread quickly.

    “LMU posted a Reels on Instagram. My mom sent it to me and she goes, ‘you need to take this class right now!’” said Carolina Acosta, a junior at LMU who took the class last year.

    Acosta was born and raised in Puerto Rico and her mother lives in San Juan, the capital. She’s majoring in entrepreneurship with the goal of earning a bachelor’s in business administration.

    She was skeptical about taking the class.

    Bad Bunny is dressed in a black suit and wearing dark sunglasses. Other people appear in the background, and one woman is wearing a black face covering.
    Bad Bunny attends the Los Angeles Premiere Of Columbia Pictures' "Bullet Train" at Regency Village Theatre on Aug. 1, 2022 in Los Angeles.
    (
    Jon Kopaloff
    /
    2022 Getty Images
    )

    “I didn't really think it was going to be about the island itself,” she said. “And then I remember my first day talking about it. I was just like, wow, it's [about] a lot more than the artist.” The class taught her aspects of Puerto Rico’s history and culture that she didn’t learn while growing up there.

    Talking to students who are taking the class now and who took the class in past semesters opens a window into how this class engages college students and has transformed some students’ views of their college work and what they want to do after college.

    That impact is by design.

    ‘There's so much to cover, and so much to talk about’

    Bad Bunny has a lot of firsts under his belt. He’s broken streaming records on Spotify and his concert tours break ticket sales.

    (Editor's note: He also knows how to enter a WWE ring.)

    But the doors of academia have opened because of the cultural impact of his song lyrics and videos; how he leads his personal life; and how he challenges established ideas of race, gender, sexuality, and U.S. territorial dominance over Puerto Rico.

    I want to make my students feel engaged in their learning. I want them to feel connected to the curriculum and I want them… to want to come to class.
    — Vanessa Díaz, professor, Loyola Marymount University

    “I want to make my students feel engaged in their learning. I want them to feel connected to the curriculum and I want them… to want to come to class,” said professor Vanessa Díaz.

    Díaz first taught the class at LMU last year. She drew inspiration from a similar Wellesley College first offered two years ago.

    Díaz’s doctorate is in cultural anthropology. Her dissertation is titled "Manufacturing Celebrity and Marketing Fame: An Ethnographic Study of Celebrity Media Production." She worked as a red carpet reporter for People Magazine.

    The three-month class begins with the basics about the artist Bad Bunny and his career. Then students learn about Puerto Rico’s history as a colony, modern day natural and political crises, resistance movements, and how reggaeton comes on the scene using innovative as well as toxic elements of Caribbean identity.

    A group of students sitting in chairs. In focus: A feminine presenting person with dark hair and gray sweatshirt speaks.
    Student Ana Garcia speaks during class at Loyola Marymount University.
    (
    Brian Feinzimer
    /
    LAist
    )

    Díaz said she’s seen those topics engage these young adults because of how profoundly some of these issues affect their lives. Number one on that list: how gender and sexuality are represented in popular media.

    “My students’ generation are much more likely to identify as queer, or non-binary, or kind of fluid in these different ways,” she said.

    For instance, the class watched how Bad Bunny bends images of gender and sexuality in his music video for “Yo Perreo Sola.” It's given students plenty to talk about, including whether the singer should or shouldn’t be considered a queer icon.

    “I just remember week two of the course just immediately being like, ‘Oh, my God, this course is kind of going to change my entire perspective,’” said Ashley Buschhorn, a senior majoring in journalism who’s taking the class this semester.

    As a queer person I've seen the ways that queer groups in Puerto Rico have been oppressed, and ... discriminated against.
    — Ashley Buschhorn, student, Loyola Marymount University

    That perspective, she said, has been shaped by being a “white American from Texas” who grew up with people of Latin American descent but who didn’t know how colonialism shaped those cultures.

    “As a queer person I've seen the ways that queer groups in Puerto Rico have been oppressed, and ... discriminated against,” Buschhorn said.

    The class lectures and readings on gender and sexuality led Buschhorn to think about if she in any way is contributing to violence against women and queer people in Puerto Rico and how she could help stop that violence.

    A feminine presenting person with light skin tone and dark hair wearing a gray sweatshirt stands next to a feminine presenting person with blond hair and a dark blue sweatshirt while they lean on a metal railing in an indoor building with various floors.
    Students Ana Garcia and Ashley Buschorn pose for a portrait at Loyola Marymount University.
    (
    Brian Feinzimer
    /
    LAist
    )

    And subsequent discussions about Bad Bunny as a political activist and crafty manipulator of authentic and manufactured personas has helped Buschhorn think about the work she wants to do after graduation: documentary filmmaking.

    “I think that's something that this class kind of directly combats is that you can't look at something just [through] one perspective. In this class there's probably five different perspectives that you have to look at something through,” she said.

    Higher education’s student engagement problem

    Colleges and universities in the U.S. are facing many challenges, among them how to engage growing proportions of students who are from non-white backgrounds with classes that combine academic rigor and speak to students’ various lived experiences. Increased student engagement is good for the student and good for the college.

    Ana Garcia is a senior majoring in marketing. She knew a lot about reggaeton but very little about Puerto Rico before taking this class. In the class she learned there was solidarity across social classes in Puerto Rico when a major hurricane hit the island the same year as the 2017 Mexico City earthquake, which she lived through.

    Teaching el Conejo Malo: Centering the Cultural Significance of Bad Bunny

    Loyola Marymount University professor Vanessa Díaz and Wellesley College professor Petra Rivera-Rideau developed The Bad Bunny Syllabus to "explore the cultural significance of Bad Bunny as a way to draw folks in to the complex, dynamic historical, and contemporary realities of Puerto Rico."

    The syllabus covers reggaetón resources, colonialism in Puerto Rico, Hurricane Maria, race and gender politics, and more.

    Check out the full syllabus.

    “I took it from a very personal experience that I saw this first hand, and just like seeing what it was for Puerto Ricans to go and do the same thing and a very different point of their history,” she said.

    Garcia and most of the rest of the class enjoyed an epic class opportunity that connected theory to practice. Professor Díaz was able to secure funding to pay for the students to attend the Bad Bunny concert on March 14 at Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles.

    The assignment was to create a video-reflection based on the lessons in the class.

    Parallels to ethnic studies classes in high schools

    The Bad Bunny class is a course in both Chicana/o and Latina/o Studies and Film, Television, and Media Studies. It’s a class that looks at media, race, and representation.

    “People want to know about what's happening in the world and they want to know about why artists, musicians, etc. feel so much need to put that into their art,” said Emily Penner, a UC Irvine professor who studies K-12 student engagement.

    The class syllabus for Díaz’s Bad Bunny class, Penner said, shed light on parallels with the high school ethnic studies classes she looks at in her research. Some of those hallmarks include curriculum as counter narrative (the challenging of dominant views), intersectionality (the overlap between topics such as race and gender), and students as intellectuals, which can be the most transformative part of the student experience.

    “Anything that students can bring to the table to demonstrate their prior knowledge and their expertise, I think always is useful for orienting students toward what they're about to do for the rest of the semester,” Penner said.

    A feminine presenting person with light skin tone and short dark hair wearing a denim dress stands next to a projector screen with the text that reads "River-Rideau: Perils of Perreo/ Sen. Gonzalez on perreo (we have read/seen previously)/ "clean up" reggaeton --> first violence (Mano dura), etc, now sex (laws) / how to correlate to yal and other issues (race/class correlation)/ morality/respectability / Black PR practice (bomba/bembes --> reggaeton) /Hypersexual blackness (79)/ Moral panic - how link to first wk reading by Bonilla on BB and moral panic.
    Professor Vanessa Diaz teaching a class on Puerto Rican culture and Bad Bunny at Loyola Marymount University.
    (
    Brian Feinzimer
    /
    LAist
    )

    That prior knowledge doesn’t have to be an exact match with the class topic, in this case Puerto Rico and the pop music icon. Effective teaching will engage students of different races and socioeconomic status. For some students who have taken the Bad Bunny class, what they bring to the table is sometimes challenged and transformed in ways the students didn’t expect.

    'I've never had a class teach me about my history'

    Political science major Mateo-Luis Planas brought a strong sense of identity to the first day of the Bad Bunny class last year, citing his appreciation for dancing salsa, bachata, and merengue.

    “I was born and raised in Connecticut but my entire family's from the island of Puerto Rico,” he said. Many of his relatives still live on the island. He pointed to his grandmother’s pride in the Puerto Rican flag.

    “I just thought my grandmother was really happy to be Puerto Rican. But turns out there was a point in history when it was actually illegal and punishable to even have those flags out in your house,” he said.

    Puerto Rican history is American history.

    I've never had a class teach me about my history, which is something that the average American has never had to say.
    — Mateo-Luis Planas, student, Loyola Marymount University

    “I've never had a class teach me about my history, which is something that the average American has never had to say,” he said.

    What engaged him the most is the overlap between centuries-old racial policies in Puerto Rico and how race was and was not talked about within his own family. The Bad Bunny class is leading him to rethink whether law school is the best move for him after college.

    “I have the rest of my life to study law,” Planas said, but people in Puerto Rico now need to achieve rights to their land and need a functional government that’s responsive to people’s needs.

    Planas now feels he wants to go to the island to help people achieve those goals.

  • Residents spoke to regulators about air pollution
    A woman wearing a black graphic t-shirt speaks at a podium in a public meeting.
    Tiff Sanchez, an organizer with East Yard Communities for Environmental Justice, addresses the board at a hearing held at the South Coast Air Quality Management District.

    Topline:

    At a South Coast AQMD hearing, Boyle Heights and East L.A. residents demanded faster cleanup and tougher penalties for Lineage.

    Why now: More than 100 Boyle Heights and East L.A. residents packed a boardroom in Diamond Bar on Wednesday to tell air regulators how air pollution and lingering odors from the Lineage warehouse fire have affected their health, homes and daily lives.

    Why it matters: The hearing board is considering whether to issue an order of abatement, which would require Lineage to take specific steps to address air pollution from the warehouse fire and meet stricter cleanup standards at the site.

    Read on... for five things residents told air regulars.

    This story first appeared on The LA Local.

    More than 100 Boyle Heights and East L.A. residents packed a boardroom Wednesday in Diamond Bar to tell air regulators how air pollution and lingering odors from the Lineage warehouse fire have affected their health, homes and daily lives.

    Some boarded buses before 8 a.m. to travel the 25 miles to the South Coast Air Quality Management District hearing, where the agency is considering whether to order stricter cleanup requirements and penalties against Lineage Logistics.

    The hearing board is considering whether to issue an order of abatement, which would require Lineage to take specific steps to address air pollution from the warehouse fire and meet stricter cleanup standards at the site.

    The hearing comes after AQMD said it received more than 4,000 odor complaints since early July and issued 19 notices of violation to Lineage, alleging the odors created a public nuisance.

    Lineage said it had removed about 80% of the food waste from the facility and expects to spend between $80 million and $100 million on cleanup.

    The air district hearing board is expected to continue its review Thursday as it considers issuing an order and possibly charging fines for the air quality violations. Board and Lineage representatives are scheduled to give presentations tomorrow on the cleanup and related pollution.

    Here are five takeaways from the testimony.

    1. Residents made the trip to make sure their voices were heard

    Several speakers said it was frustrating that residents had to leave their communities, miss work and travel to Diamond Bar just to be heard. They called on AQMD to hold future hearings in Boyle Heights, closer to the people most affected by the fire.

    On the bus ride to the hearing, residents told Boyle Heights Beat that they were coming to speak for their children, for neighbors who feared reprisal and because they had lived through environmental crises, like the Exide battery recycling plant, which contaminated neighborhoods in Southeast Los Angeles for years.

    2. Weeks later, people say they still don’t feel safe

    Speakers told the hearing board they are still dealing with foul odors from rotting food and health issues, including nausea, headaches, bloody noses, rashes, sinus and eye infections, asthma flare-ups and breathing problems. Many said they worry about the long-term effects of exposure and whether the air will be safe when kids return to school.

    Amanda Diaz carried her newborn son with her to the microphone. She told the board her son was about two weeks old when the fire broke out . Her voice shaking with emotion, Diaz said she had to take her child to a hospital after he broke out in rashes, and she is worried that the exposure has caused harm that isn’t yet apparent.

    “The fire has robbed me of these chances to recover from childbirth in peace and enjoy these precious first weeks with my son,” she said.

    Several people said the impacts extend beyond the streets closest to the warehouse and that more people across Boyle Heights and East L.A. have been affected.

    “Does the air have a ZIP code?” resident Margarita Gonzalez asked the board and Lineage’s representatives, inviting them to spend time in her home to better understand the extent of the odor problem.

    “Our community deserves fresh air,” Erika Jimenez, who lives near Mariachi Plaza, added.

    3. Elected leaders call lingering odors a public health crisis

    A zoom video on multiple screens with LA Mayor Karen Bass, two other people, and a presentation across the screens.
    Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass addresses the board and residents via remote video at a hearing held in the William A. Burke Auditorium of the South Coast Air Quality Management District (South Coast AQMD) in Diamond Bar.
    (
    Gary Coronado
    /
    The LA Local
    )

    Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass, District 14 City Councilmember Ysabel Jurado and State Sen. María Elena Durazo urged the board to require stricter cleanup standards and impose financial penalties against Lineage.

    Bass called on the board to use its enforcement authority to require a stronger cleanup plan, including financial support for impacted residents.

    “What the residents of Boyle Heights are facing is not just a nuisance, but it is a public health crisis that requires urgent and actionable measures,” Bass told the board.

    Bass said Lineage should be required to establish a fund dedicated to the ongoing support of impacted residents, including relocating them until the issue is completely resolved. She added that the company has made some effort to provide help but only after pressure from residents and elected leaders.

    Jurado said the sheer volume of complaints and notices of violations is evidence enough that Lineage’s management of the crisis has been inadequate.

    “Residents should not have to file complaint after complaint to force a multi-billion-dollar corporation to contain the harm that it created,” Jurado told the board.

    She added that any order against Lineage should include firm deadlines, aggressive odor control, public reporting and meaningful consequences if it is violated.

    Durazo echoed outrage that residents are expected to endure unsafe conditions while the cleanup unfolds at the “company’s pace.” She said the rotting material should be removed before students are expected to return to school on Aug. 12.

    Durazo said Lineage should pay for the full cost of housing and home remediation for residents, and the board should enforce the maximum financial penalty against the company. She also asked that another hearing be held in Boyle Heights rather than miles away during the workday.

    “Residents deserve to be heard,” Durazo said.

    A crowd of people sitting in seats facing the same direction. Some people are wearing ear monitors.
    Concerned residents of Boyle Heights and East Los Angeles at a hearing held in Diamond Bar. The South Coast AQMD Hearing Board held a hearing listening to proposed conditions to reduce odors impacting the nearby community from the Lineage Warehouse fire cleanup in Boyle Heights.
    (
    Gary Coronado
    /
    The LA Local
    )

    4. Residents say they don’t want history to repeat itself

    For many speakers, the Lineage fire was not an isolated incident. They said it was another example of Boyle Heights and East L.A. communities being forced to live with the impacts of policies and businesses that create health hazards for the community.

    Several people compared the situation to Exide. Others questioned why communities near industrial facilities are often asked to endure pollution and health risks while waiting for action.

    “We are witnessing environmental racism,” Eve Sanchez said.

    A close up of a woman with medium skin tone crying as she clasps her hands in front of her mouth.
    Alma Martinez, of Monterey Park, weeps during public comments at a hearing held in the William A. Burke Auditorium of the South Coast Air Quality Management District in Diamond Bar.
    (
    Gary Coronado
    /
    The LA Local
    )

    Some called for the warehouse and other industrial facilities to move away from residential neighborhoods.

    “I need you to pay attention to what’s happening in our community and for these factories to move from their location please,” said Cristina Fernandez, an East L.A. resident, with help from an interpreter.

    She also invited Lineage representatives to visit her home and experience the poor air quality.

    5. Students and parents describe a disrupted summer and back-to-school concerns

    A child with light skin tone speaks into a microphone at a podium as a woman stands next to him and looking at him.
    Leonardo Gutierrez, 8, and mother Maria Patiño Gutierrez, of East Los Angeles, address the board at a hearing held in the William A. Burke Auditorium of the South Coast Air Quality Management District (South Coast AQMD) in Diamond Bar.
    (
    Gary Coronado
    /
    The LA Local
    )

    Several youth who are members of East Yard Communities for Environmental Justice spoke on behalf of their families and their neighbors and highlighted the uncertainty of going back to school in the aftermath of Lineage.

    “Am I expected to go into my senior year in these conditions? It’s ridiculous,” said Isabella Hernandez, a Boyle Heights resident.

    “Lineage is banking on the fact that we’re poor,” Hernandez said. “They think we’re stupid and uneducated and that we’re just going to lie down and take this.

    “We’re not. We deserve clean air and a safe place to live,” she continued.

    Another Boyle Heights youth spoke about a lack of purifiers being distributed.

    “I come from a multigenerational home and we only have one air purifier … How does this make sense?” she said.

    Maria Patiño Gutierrez said she’s not comfortable with her son going back to school, which is less than two miles away from Lineage.

    “Our summer plans were ruined because of this fire,” she said.

    Her son also addressed officials during the hearing.

    “It was my birthday when the fire started," he said. "My baseball game was canceled. Everything was canceled because of the fire.”

  • Sponsored message
  • Fight to get it on November ballot fizzled
    A tile and glass building. Letters spelling out "Anaheim City Hall 200 S. Anaheim Blvd." are placed on the tile. There are palm trees in the background.
    Tenant advocates in Anaheim had hoped the city would follow Santa Ana in enacting rent control.

    Topline:

    An effort to put a rent control measure on the November ballot in Anaheim has fizzled. That means Santa Ana is likely to remain the only Orange County city with rent control, at least for now.

    What the initiative would have done: The group Tenants United Anaheim launched an effort in January to put rent control on the November ballot. The initiative proposed to cap rent increases in the city at 3% annually. It also would have required landlords to pay relocation assistance to tenants forced to move through no fault of their own, such as when an owner takes a rental unit off the market.

    Read on ... for details about why the measure fell short, and what happens next.

    An effort to put a rent control measure on the November ballot in Anaheim has fizzled. That means Santa Ana is likely to remain the only Orange County city with rent control, at least for now.

    The group Tenants United Anaheim launched an effort in January to put rent control on the November ballot. The initiative proposed to cap rent increases in the city at 3% annually. It also would have required landlords to pay relocation assistance to tenants forced to move through no fault of their own, such as when an owner takes a rental unit off the market.

    Why did it fizzle?

    Tenants United Anaheim has yet to release an official statement, but an organizer with the group told LAist the group had decided to suspend signature-gathering in order to improve and strengthen the text of the ballot measure.

    This week is the deadline to submit ballot initiatives for the November election in Orange County. The group expects to resume the effort for a future election.

    The context

    Tenant advocates in Anaheim had hoped to follow in the footsteps of neighboring Santa Ana, which became Orange County’s first city to adopt rent control in 2021. It was upheld by voters in 2024. The efforts in both cities have faced strong opposition from the California Apartment Association, which represents landlords.

    What's next

    Some cities have had to pare down their protections for renters after negative court rulings. Los Angeles and Pasadena have stopped enforcing mandatory relocation assistance following legal victories by landlord groups.

    Tenants United Anaheim's members hope their revised rent control proposal will make it on the ballot in 2028.

  • Health officials confirm first case this year
    An image of dead mosquitos scattered on a white sheet.
    West Nile virus is transmitted to humans through the bite of infected Culex mosquitoes.

    Topline: 

    The first human case of West Nile virus in Orange County this year has been detected, health officials announced Wednesday. The individual who tested positive is an Anaheim resident.

    How it's transmitted: West Nile virus is transmitted to humans through the bite of an infected Culex mosquito, which gets the virus from feeding on infected birds. Currently, there is no vaccine.

    The symptoms: Most people who get infected will not experience symptoms. However, West Nile virus can lead to mild flu-like symptoms. Less than 1% of infected patients develop severe illness that affects the central nervous system. This typically manifests as meningitis, encephalitis or acute flaccid myelitis, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. People over 65 or who have chronic health conditions — including cancer, diabetes and high blood pressure — are at higher risk. Those with severe symptoms should seek immediate medical care.

    What health officials say: “West Nile virus is endemic in Orange County, recurring every year during the summer months and continuing into the fall,” Dr. Regina Chinsio-Kwong, the county's health officer, said in a statement. “There have been multiple detections of WNV positive mosquitoes in Orange County, signaling that this could be an intense WNV season.”

    "[W]e are seeing an abundance of mosquitoes testing positive for West Nile virus in the northwestern area of Orange County, specifically Fullerton, Anaheim, Cypress, Buena Park and La Habra," added Brian Brannon, a spokesperson for the Orange County Mosquito and Vector Control District.

    The backstory: The first human case of West Nile virus in California this year was detected in Long Beach in late June.

    How to protect yourself: The risk of West Nile virus and other mosquito-borne diseases increases during hot weather. Health officials recommend taking these precautions:

    • Prevent mosquito bites by applying insect repellent with EPA-registered active ingredients DEET, picaridin, IR3535 or lemon eucalyptus.
    • Wear long-sleeved shirts and long pants if spending time outdoors during dawn and dusk. WNV-carrying mosquitoes are most active during those times.
    • Dump and drain standing water around home.
    • Report dead birds to the California Department of Public Health online or by calling (877) 968-2473. 

    Go deeper: Mosquito season is here, in case your ankles haven't noticed. How humans are fighting back

  • What the new federal plan means for SoCal
    A small boat on a river. In the background is a brownish-red rocky bank. It lightens in color towards the bottom indicating a decrease in the lake's water.
    A boat passes by the tall bleached ''bathtub ring'' on the rocky banks of Lake Powell in Page, Arizona on Aug. 01, 2026.
    Topline:
    Agreements on how to manage the Colorado River resources among seven states are expiring at the end of this year.

    Last week, the federal steward for the river last week released a 10-year framework that establishes parameters for managing the river, but imposes no specific long-term plan.

    The federal government plans to roll out more detailed management plans every two years if the states continue their impasse.

    The cuts: The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation will release the first of those plans any day, imposing cuts in the downstream states of California, Arizona and Nevada — an estimated 10% cut to California's supply through 2028.

    The federal provisions include cuts of up to 40% to the shared supply of California, Arizona and Nevada in the lower basin. They also allow releases from Lake Powell to dip low enough that they risk violating a legally required threshold for water deliveries to downstream states.

    What cuts mean for Southern CA: Without longer-term certainty about how states will share the river’s water supply among 40 million people, millions of acres of agriculture, and two states in Mexico — cities and irrigation providers are struggling to plan how to close the gaps.

    Uncertainty over the Colorado River compounds the risks the next drought will bring.

    Read on... for details about what goes into the water decisions that affect California.

    Dire water conditions, missed deadlines and uncertainty on the Colorado River are complicating critical water decisions in California.

    No single state, water agency or federal official has shown the power, or the will, to break the deadlock among Colorado River basin states over how to share the dwindling supplies.

    Years of fraught negotiations have failed to yield consensus even as major reservoir storage plummets to record lows — ratcheting up the tensions, and the stakes, for the states’ negotiators.

    Now, key agreements for managing the river are expiring at the end of this year. These include agreements reached in 2007 that lasted nearly two decades, which took fewer than three years to craft.

    This round of talks has already taken longer — and, so far, produced nothing so durable.

    The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, the federal steward for the river under the Department of the Interior, last week released a 10-year framework that establishes rough parameters for managing the river, but imposes no specific long-term plan.

    The federal provisions include cuts of up to 40% to the shared supply of California, Arizona and Nevada in the lower basin. They also allow releases from Lake Powell, which collects flows from the upper basin, to dip low enough that they risk violating a legally required threshold for water deliveries to downstream states.

    These dramatic cuts are an upper limit for future operations. The federal government plans to roll out more detailed management plans every two years if the states continue their impasse.

    The agency will release the first of those plans any day, imposing cuts in the downstream states of California, Arizona and Nevada — an estimated 10% cut to California's supply through 2028, or roughly 440,000 acre-feet a year.

    No mandatory cuts are expected in the upper basin states of Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico, according to those involved in negotiations. The Los Angeles Times first reported the split.

    It reflects the limits of federal power and political will: The Interior Department can force cuts in the lower basin, but has no comparable authority to impose cuts in the upper basin states — the limits of which the Congressional Research Service said are the subject of “ongoing debate.”

    This isn’t the long-term plan that California’s water suppliers were hoping for.

    Building anything to store, move or make more water typically takes decades and billions of dollars. Without longer-term certainty about how states will share the river’s water supply among 40 million people, millions of acres of agriculture and two states in Mexico — cities and irrigation providers are struggling to plan how to close the gaps.

    “A cut is never fun, but you can deal with it. But not if you say, ‘Well, we have a cut here, and then maybe a cut in two years, and maybe another cut in two more years,’” said Bill Hasencamp, Metropolitan Water District’s manager of Colorado River resources.

    “We need to plan for our future. And this deal does not let us do that.”

    The future of Southern California’s water 

    In California, where the availability of water is never certain, nature-defying engineering keeps dry parts of the state flush with water even when little falls from the sky.

    Much of that engineering converges around one Southern California supplier: the Metropolitan Water District. The giant wholesaler imports water from Northern California and the Colorado River to supply cities and other retailers serving 19 million people across six counties.

    Metropolitan’s imports are so central to the region that when its Northern California supplies dropped to a trickle during the most recent drought, 6 million Southern Californians faced unprecedented water restrictions in 2022.

    Southern California isn’t facing such serious shortfalls again yet. But uncertainty over the Colorado River compounds the risks the next drought will bring.

    “There's a good chance it'll be as bad as it's been, and there's a reasonable chance that it'll be worse,” said Hasencamp’s colleague, Keith Nobriga, whose job as an operations manager at Metropolitan is helping the district prepare for the future amid climate change.

    The uncertainty also throws a wrench in Gov. Gavin Newsom’s administration’s water machinations to the north. Metropolitan's board will play an outsized role in deciding the fates of Sites Reservoir and the Delta tunnel because of the district's water needs and spending power.

    Both multibillion-dollar projects, decades in the making, aim to send more of Northern California’s water south. Metropolitan is also planning a large-scale water recycling and reuse program, called Pure Water Southern California, with the Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts.

    Metropolitan has already committed hundreds of millions of dollars to the Delta tunnel’s planning costs and about $31 million for Sites Reservoir. The board hasn’t committed to receiving water or contributing to construction for either yet, though board votes on whether to approve the tunnel and recycled water project could come as soon as next year.

    Subtracting one part of the equation, such as the Colorado River, could change the calculus for the others. But Metropolitan has to know how much water it stands to lose, and for how long.

    The consequences of picking the wrong path could leave Southern California thirsty during the next drought, on one hand, or unnecessarily increase water rates, on the other.

    Nobriga compares his job to insurance planning. The costs of nudging these water projects along, he says, are like paying an insurance premium.

    “We'll keep these projects alive. We'll keep looking down the road,” he said. “And if it gets to a point where we really think these droughts are imminent, then we'll … construct and pay the big money for one or several of these projects. And we don't know which ones yet.”

    Agriculture in limbo

    California uses the largest share of the Colorado River’s water among the states. And the Imperial Irrigation District uses the largest share of that to supply half a million acres of alfalfa, grasses, winter vegetables and other crops in the southeast corner of the state.

    As climate change and a megadrought plunged the Colorado River into its driest decades in over a century, the Biden administration struck a deal with the Imperial Irrigation District, trading more than half a billion federal dollars for short-term water conservation.

    Growers cut irrigation to their alfalfa and other forage crops for weeks at a time, and the district conserved enough water to add more than 12 feet to Lake Mead on the Colorado River, according to Tina Shields, water manager for the irrigation district.

    Now, those conservation programs are coming to the end of their funding and regulatory lifetimes. Starting new ones would require new plans and approvals to address the environmental impact of reduced irrigation runoff that feeds the Salton Sea.

    Seeking those permits and environmental approvals “needs to be done on a longer term, not on a two-year term,” Shields said. “Because it’ll take us at least a year to negotiate, probably longer, the environmental actions necessary to move forward.”

    In the meantime, negotiations are ongoing with other California water users about how they’ll share the coming cuts, including who is going to pay for it, Shields said. The district has not yet committed to anything.

    “The district's perspective is: We've done a lot. We're doing a lot. It's challenging to do more,” she said.

    Art of the deal

    Though the U.S. Department of the Interior has not yet released its plan for the river’s next two years, those involved in negotiations expect that it will call for reductions and conservation in California, Arizona and Nevada similar to what the states proposed in May.

    The three lower-basin states then must agree among themselves and with the federal government on how to implement it. After that, individual water suppliers in California will seek approvals from their boards for their share of the cuts.

    Jay Weiner, an attorney representing the Fort Yuma Quechan Indian Tribe, whose reservation lies on both sides of the Colorado River, compared the plan to a Band-Aid, not a long-term path to sustainability.

    “To a large extent,” Weiner said, “it leaves us at the mercy of this coming winter.”

    The Trump administration relied on the states reaching consensus rather than imposing terms — an approach that so far hasn't broken the deadlock.

    Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs called for the federal government to step in and broker a deal. But federal leverage looks different in the upper and lower basins. Lower basin stakeholders say there are other strings the federal government could pull upstream, such as forcing water out of reservoirs, but isn’t. And cloistered negotiations and hardline positions among negotiators have driven an impasse.

    Arizona negotiator Tom Buschatzke publicly lambasted the upper basin in The Denver Post for failing to propose “One. Single. Gallon.” of mandatory, verifiable reductions. Colorado negotiator Becky Mitchell wrote in The Colorado Sun that had the lower basin states lived within their means, “the reservoirs would not be in crisis today.”

    Elizabeth Koebele, a political science professor at the University of Nevada, Reno said that negotiations have been most productive when participants had strong working relationships. Without clear federal leadership, she said, the same conflicts keep resurfacing.

    The fraying relationships, she said, could stem from turnover. But years of constant crisis have also worn people down.

    “We have been governing in crisis for a long time, and so every time we meet at the table, there's this big problem to solve,” she said. “The house is on fire.”

    While the lower basin may sue the upper over deliveries that dip below a legally required threshold, both sides would risk the uncertain outcomes of litigation.

    “In essence, this federal action has 40 million people living from paycheck to paycheck on water supply,” said Mark Gold, an environmental scientist and board member of the Metropolitan Water District.

    That paycheck comes due again in two years with the same states, and the same asymmetry of power, still in place. Until then, the interior secretary can still force deeper cuts on the lower basin. No one, right now, is willing to force the upper basin to do the same.

    This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.