Blaming the symptom or the cause? (Part One)

I have always wondered why planetary pollution, climate warming and biodiversity destruction are never blamed on overpopulation, but instead on elements resulting from specific aspects resulting from human population on earth. To me, it always felt as if we were treating the symptoms instead of the cause. Still, many disagree with me, and say I missed one key nuance in the way in environmental science, population is not the “root cause” in the simple way it appears, even though it’s an important part of the equation. 

They say the real root causes are more complex, as overpopulation may be part of the scientific discussion, but is rarely framed as the “main culprit” because research shows that the drivers of planetary damage are not sheer numbers of people, but the unequal and highly concentrated patterns of consumption, emissions, and land use. 

Did I mention that without a growing population, that of the economy and the religions would be hindered as well? 

The counterpoint to my beliefs is that the biggest environmental impacts come from consumption, not headcount as a small percentage of the global population produces the majority of emissions and waste and wealthy nations with stable or declining populations have the highest per‑capita environmental footprint. In contrast, poorer, fast‑growing populations contribute far less to climate change. 

This is why experts argue that consumption patterns, energy systems, and industrial practices are the primary drivers of climate warming and biodiversity loss—not population size alone. Sure, die-hard environmental scholars claim that population‑blame has often been tied to racist or xenophobic narratives, policies targeting specific regions or groups and attempts to shift responsibility away from high‑consumption societies. 

This sounds nice and good, but in my view is an obsession with fixing the seemingly easy and intractable (the symptoms) and neglecting the harder and main part (the cause). In a next blog, I’ll try to dig deeper into these arguments and honestly see if the position I’ve held for a long time holds any justification.

Doing great stuff with limited resources…

This thin and snow-less season will have taught me a very important lesson. It’s always possible to have a whole lot of fun with limited resources. Quantity has very little to do with quality in fact. It’s all in the way we direct the spotlight to see the good, the potential and improve on what seems bad at first sight. In short, a complete change in perspective! 

A few days ago, I was skiing on what’s always been for me, and still is today, ma favorite slope around Park City, called “Thaynes” and served by a rickety, 1975 Yan double fixed-grip chair that gets you 876 feet (267 m) higher up in just over 6 minutes. 

An ideal slope profile for a slalom course! 

The picture doesn’t do justice to the difficult, highly technical run it serves. I’ve written many times about that place and still love it in spite of its ski lift being very long in the teeth! 

Remember the Fall’s weather forecast? (Part Two)

In addition to the ups and downs of El Niño and La Niña, there has also been some atmospheric blocking and jet‑stream instability. During the fall of 2025, the jet stream did not set up in the classic 

La Niña pattern. Instead of steering Pacific storms into the Northwest and northern Rockies, it frequently split or stalled. 

This led to Storms missing the West entirely, with warm, dry ridges forming over the Great Basin and Rockies. In addition, the snow arrived later and in different regions than forecast had told us. 

According to the specialists, these blocking patterns are notoriously hard to predict more than 2–3 weeks ahead. The same experts also claim that local terrain effects amplify forecast errors. 

For instance, mountain regions like the Wasatch (here in Utah), Sierra (California), and Cascades (British Columbia, Oregon and Washington) depend on very specific storm trajectories. A shift of even 100 miles in the storm track can mean some heavy snow in one range but almost nothing in another. Once more, seasonal models cannot resolve these fine‑scale differences. 

Should I mention that the Farmer’s Almanac forecast uses non‑scientific methods and isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on? Unlike NOAA, the Farmer’s Almanac does not use physics‑based climate models. Its long‑range predictions rely on proprietary formulas, historical patterns and probably, fairy tales, which certainly don’t account for sudden ENSO shifts, jet‑stream behavior and anomalies, ocean‑atmosphere coupling and climate‑driven extremes. 

Seasonal snow forecasts will always carry large uncertainty, especially in the West where mountains create microclimates. NOAA’s probabilistic maps (like the snowfall probability tools I’m referring to) are more reliable than the Famer’s Almanac, but still cannot guarantee outcomes months ahead. Short‑range (1–2 week) forecasts remain far more accurate for snowfall than seasonal outlooks. 

The same specialists don’t mention climate change and the new trend for atmospheric rivers. I guess it’s only me who thinks that way. As a result, just don’t even consider long-term forecasts and make your own instead, or ask your dog if you have one!

Remember the Fall’s weather forecast? (Part One)

The fall‑2025 snow forecasts for the western United States promised us almost the same precipitations and temperatures as an average winter for Utah. In reality, it ended up being totally wrong and quite the opposite (no snow and milder temperatures) because the large‑scale climate signals that NOAA (US weather forecast) and the Farmer’s Almanac relied on, behaved totally differently than expected once the season actually arrived.

Even though the sources I’m mentioning were focused on general winter outlooks, they highlighted their key weakness as seasonal forecasts are probabilistic and heavily dependent on ENSO patterns (El Niño-Southern Oscillation). The ENSO cycles are natural, recurring, 2–7 year climate variations involving shifts in tropical Pacific Ocean temperatures and atmospheric circulation. 

These oscillations consist of three phases, El Niño (warm), La Niña (cool), and Neutral, all of which influence global weather, including precipitation, temperature, and hurricane activity, particularly during winter. As it looked into the winter 2025-26, NOAA, our national weather forecasting expected La Niña to continue, with a transition toward neutral conditions sometime in early 2026. 

But apparently the strength, timing, and regional impacts of La Niña vary widely from year to year. In 2025, the pattern weakened earlier and behaved irregularly, which disrupted the typical storm track that brings early‑season snow to the West. This means that even when the broad climate pattern is known, the exact distribution of snowfall was extremely difficult to predict months in advance. 

Our scientists are not talking much about climate change and the increased number of atmospheric rivers. This must be in my own head! There are however additional reasons that we’ll discuss tomorrow...

Sharp eye and sure footing…

When I heard we had received eight inches of powder overnight, I figured this new day was offering me an unexpected gift. Since I couldn’t get out in the morning, I set my sights on the afternoon, convinced that higher elevation would still hold the fluffiest snow. 

From the lift, everything looked promising—soft, untouched, inviting. But the moment my skis touched the surface, the illusion vanished. What had looked like powder had turned into heavy plaster, the kind that grabs your skis and makes every turn feel like a negotiation. I left that area and tried another, only to find the same stubborn, uncooperative snow. 

Still, something in me switched from disappointment to curiosity. Instead of fighting the conditions, I treated them like a game. And little by little, I found ways to make it fun. The challenge itself became the reward. That’s when it struck me: all these years on snow have built a catalog of sensations that live in the soles of my feet—tiny variations in pressure, edge angle, and balance that I don’t consciously think about but rely on constantly. 

My eyes, too, have been trained by thousands of runs to read terrain instantly, to spot both opportunity and danger long before I reach them. In difficult conditions, those two systems—vision and foot‑feel—start talking to each other. My feet recognize echoes of past situations and quietly offer solutions. My eyes scan ahead and choose the line that gives those solutions the best chance to work. When they sync up, even terrible snow becomes a kind of game. 

The frustration dissolves, replaced by a sense of competence, presence, and flow. And that’s when I’m reminded, once again, that there’s really no such thing as a bad moment on skis. There are only different moments—each one adding another layer to the skill, memory, and joy that keep me coming back.

Meet the “Demo Team!”

As spring get closer we all have projects to start, either around our homes or on other properties we have some interest in. But with any remodeling or improvements, there is always a hefty amount of “demo” or demolition, that’s often necessary.

Still, no one does a better job than the “Bibi”- Donald pair for breaking things. They bring their heavy equipment and hit everything in sight without worrying about any damage. From Gaza to Tehran you see both destroying any infrastructure and telling us they’ll replace ruins and rubles with a wonderful resort... 

Sure, Bibi does that to avoid losing his political immunity and end up going to jail while Donald does it to distract us from Epstein, his sinking ratings and our affordability problems. Out of personal concern and for my own safery, I wonder what this destructive duo will demolish next?

Olympic introspection… (Part Five)

It’s often strange how highly important decisions are made. France secured the 2030 Winter Olympics because it offered the IOC a low‑risk, politically supported, geographically coherent, and legacy‑focused plan across the French Alps. In truth, after Sweden’s withdrawal, it became on November 29, 2023, the IOC’s sole (it then said “preferred”) candidate. 

With a blatant shortage of candidates, the so-called IOC’s “new system” emphasized stability, feasibility, and political guarantees rather than competitive bidding. The French delegation was led by President Emmanuel Macron, who personally expressed France’s full commitment to delivering the Games and the IOC said it placed enormous weight on government guarantees, especially for the Winter Games that require complex infrastructure and climate‑resilient planning. 

France met these conditions within the IOC’s timeline. What made the IOC accept a Games spread across the entire French Alps was a concern to use existing venues and established winter‑sport regions to fit its new strategy, in spite of its highly publicized “sustainability” focus versus huge transportation needs. The IOC also liked the appealing narrative that the French Alps combined historic Olympic sites with modern facilities, creating a blend of heritage and future‑oriented planning. 

This was seen as reducing risk and enhancing the Games’ narrative appeal. France also had to offer explicit financial commitments to the IOC.in order to address its concerns about cost overruns and political uncertainty. 

Unlike other recent bids that stretched across multiple countries or distant cities, the French Alps were seen as forming a continuous, well‑connected winter‑sports corridor (more than 160 miles as the crow flies). Finally, France’s recent success with the Paris 2024 Summer Olympics clinched the deal. Should I repeat that the IOC had no other option?

Edgar Grospiron was chosen to lead the 2030 Winter Olympics Organizing Committee through a formal vote of the General Assembly of the newly created committee. on February 18, 2025. I’ve seen him when he was a toddler, as his parents moved to work for Vuarnet Sports, at Avoriaz, in the early 70s. 

The General Assembly justified its choice based on Grospiron’s deep Olympic and sports‑movement experience, which included, among others, Olympic champion in mogul skiing at Albertville 1992, Leader of the Annecy 2018 Winter Olympics bid and longstanding involvement in French winter‑sports governance. These credentials were explicitly cited as reasons for his appointment. 

Grospiron, who will turn 57 in March, is remarkably extroverted and might have lacked the diplomatic skills and managerial experience need for the job. That happened to me too. Still, the position is highly visible and well remunerated (probably around $25,000 to $35,000 a month), something kept secret in the French tradition of keeping a tight lid on transparency. 

It’s worth noting that Giovanni Malagò who ran the Milan 26 took no salary. More recently, the committee has experienced significant internal tensions, including the resignation of the CEO, COO, communications director, and head of the remuneration committee. These events do not affect how he was selected but help explain why his leadership has been under scrutiny. 

Time will tell us how this complex project develops in the less than four years that are left prior to the games…