The Calm Before

It is a beautiful autumn morning here, belying the weather service warnings and phone alerts that Cyclone Vaianu will hit the North Island tonight. On my walk through the nearby wetland reserve, it seemed like every dog in Auckland was out—running, chasing, and leaping into the pools of murky water. By evening, forecasters said, the storm would bring high winds, heavy rain, and large swells. The Northland region, where we just spent a brief vacation, is especially vulnerable to flooding and landslides. With the soil already waterlogged from recent rains, officials are preparing for the worst.

We are living now in what some have called the age of consequences. New Zealand has seen an unusually high number of weather events this year as warming ocean waters have led to more frequent storms and flooding. The climate effects that were once predictions in my undergraduate environmental science classes are now our reality. We might one day look back at the age of my youth as the calm before the storm, or perhaps more accurately, the calm between storms.

Of course, those consequences will be distributed unequally and amorally, affecting the poor and unborn far more than those of us who contributed disproportionately to the cause.

What I see more clearly now that I live abroad is how the actions of the US cause consequences abroad. It is perhaps an obvious point, but it is easy to overlook this when one is living in the US, where our media and attention remain largely domestic. The decisions of Israel and the US to pursue a war of choice have created an oil crisis that has endangered the global economy. In New Zealand, this means gas prices have risen to over NZ$3.50 per litre (roughly US$8 per gallon) and there are fears of fuel shortages should the crisis continue. This in turn threatens New Zealand’s still fragile economic recovery, and, without the cushion of issuing the world’s reserve currency, the government has fewer options to absorb the shock. Needless to say, it has not boosted America’s popularity here.

Apart from transportation, New Zealand’s energy system is already largely powered by renewable sources. It has ample hydroelectric, geothermal, wind and solar power, with significant room to grow further. This latest crisis makes clear that for New Zealand to build a more resilient economy it must accelerate the transition away from fossil fuels in transportation.

What may be less certain is whether New Zealand and countries like it must also find a way to wean themselves from American leadership. Trump has already become a liability to New Zealand’s conservative leadership, which, not wanting to draw his wrath, has failed to forcefully condemn his actions. When this administration is gone, will New Zealanders and the rest of the world find a way to forgive and forget after Americans made such a selfish and irresponsible choice not once but twice. As George W. Bush once said, “Fool me once shame on you. Fool me – you can’t get fooled again.”

It is not just a lack of moral leadership or this administration’s willingness to leverage long-term relationships for near-term advantage. Beneath this lies a deeper strategic logic. In a world defined by rapid climate change and the push toward electrification, what matters increasingly is where technologies are produced and who controls the supply chains that sustain them. Much of that capacity increasingly lies in China. As U.S. leadership becomes less reliable and more committed to a fossil-fuel future, countries like New Zealand may find themselves drawn into closer alignment with China—not out of preference, but to secure access to the technologies and materials that now underpin the energy transition.

As an avatar of privilege, Trump often appears to evade the consequences that would constrain others—financially, legally, politically. But what looks like personal immunity may be something else: a system that absorbs and redistributes the costs of his actions. The consequences do not disappear. They are deferred, displaced, and eventually paid by others. There is always a toll to be paid—sometimes metaphorical, sometimes literal.

The storm has not arrived yet. As I’ve been writing the breeze has picked up and my sheets have dried on the line. But sometime tonight the storm will arrive. We have bought some flashlights, stocked the pantry and are charging our devices.