In light of who became president elect last week, I find myself searching for patterns to understand what might be happening, and what’s next. I don’t presume unrelated processes mirror each other, but there are uncanny resemblances. In this case, I believe Trump is the end of the Ice Age. He is — I believe, I hope — bad news wrapped inside of much better news.
Metaphors are going to start mixing. Go with me on this, it might just make some sense.
Ice ages generally end with a bang. The last one is no exception. The Wisconsin Ice Age, a 100,000-year-long cold spell that covered half of North America in giant glaciers, started falling off the rails about 18,000 years ago. Gradual warming began to melt away the majority of the ice. Paradise was coming, fresh water abundant, permafrost retreating, the continent greening. By 13,000 years ago, paradise was out of control, freshwater coming in the form of enormous glacial outburst floods, which were dumping into the oceans, messing with thermohaline balances, teetering climates toward the edge of radical change.
Twelve-thousand nine hundred years ago, the belts and gears of oceanic and atmospheric circulation flew apart. What had been a warming northern hemisphere in perhaps as short a time as ten years jumped back to full glacial conditions. It appears that the Gulf Stream reversed. Where it had been shuttling warm water into the North Atlantic, now it was bringing cold water south. In an event known as the Younger Dryas (YD on the chart), the Ice Age engine turned back on. Permafrost began expanding, grasslands became tundra, and formerly retreating ice caps started growing.
What could this possibly have to do with Trump? Everything.
