You are a systems ecologist at UC Davis, but you might as well be a war reporter today.
It begins with a tweet.
“We will flood Death Valley. Finally something useful. Climate fix. Bigly.” — @realDonaldTrump
The White House clarifies the next day. Executive Order 14088-B authorizes the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to begin excavation of a channel 20 meters deep and 100 meters wide, connecting the Gulf of California to Death Valley. The route cuts through the Colorado River watershed, skirting the Arizona border past Quartzsite, then turning northwest through southern California, passing near Zzyzx, and into Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America.
The reasoning? “Geoengineering innovation to correct atmospheric stagnation over inland California.”
“It’ll be like the Panama Canal but prettier,” says Trump. “We’re gonna call it the Sea of Liberty. You won’t need to go to the beach anymore. California will be the beach.”
The Protests
At first, it’s memes. The hashtag #DeathValleyDiversion floods X and TikTok with mockups of fish in the desert, yacht clubs in Badwater Basin, and superyachts in sandstorms.
Then it gets real.
Environmental groups sue. Native communities rally to stop the desecration of sacred land. Climate scientists warn that the rapid introduction of seawater into a hyper-arid basin could spawn microbial blooms, toxic aerosols, and unpredictable weather patterns.
The Trump administration counters with a PR campaign featuring slogans like:
- “Flood it and they will come!”
- “Desert bad. Ocean good.”
- “Death Valley: Make It Wet Again!”
Excavation begins near the Gulf of California.
Excavation and Escalation
The channel is dug rapidly using heavy machinery and detonation blasts, following natural elevation gradients. Since Death Valley lies 134 meters below sea level, gravity does the work—no pumping is required. As the final segment is breached, seawater rushes inland, the massive flow visible from satellite.
Estimates suggest that at the planned width and depth, Death Valley would fill in a matter of months.
The Sea of Liberty is born.
Environmental Effects
The water spreads fast. By Year One, the valley is a shallow, hypersaline inland sea teeming with fast-evolving microbial life. Halobacteria bloom in pink-red clouds, creating a Martian-looking landscape visible from orbit.
Evaporation rates spike. The air becomes humid and unseasonably hot. Thunderstorms form from localized convection. Flash flooding hits Vegas. The new climate system even causes snow in July in parts of Utah.
Bird migration patterns go haywire.
Desert tortoises and rare endemic species disappear.
And then comes the “salt fog” — an acrid haze that corrodes infrastructure and causes respiratory irritation from chloride-rich aerosols.
Politics and Division
Trump holds a rally aboard a battleship docked in the Sea of Liberty.
“I did this. And it’s tremendous. You can see the humidity!”
Conservative influencers praise it as proof that Trumpism is “better than Greta” at changing climate. Liberal pundits call it “geoecological vandalism.” A popular chant in Berkeley becomes:
“From coral reef to canyon floor, stop the man who plays with war!”
International scientists publish joint letters demanding an end to “unilateral planetary experimentation.”
Long-Term Impact
By Year Five, the Sea of Liberty has become a tourist destination, a disaster zone, and a diplomatic talking point.
It did cool the local climate slightly. Coastal fog patterns shifted. Some crops in Central California rebounded. But the long-term environmental toll is massive:
- Collapse of Mojave Desert ecosystems
- Rise in invasive marine species
- Contamination of groundwater for hundreds of miles
- Displacement of Indigenous communities
You visit the shore near what used to be Furnace Creek. Salt-encrusted skeletons of palm trees pierce the pink haze.
You whisper to your students: “We were warned. Randall Munroe told us.”
They don’t get the reference.
You feel old.
This scenario is inspired by the XKCD article “Flood Death Valley”
