Wildfires and the new normal

Opinion

Wildfires like this aren’t normal. Stop trying to normalize them.

“Bring a pair of pants and a sweater to Clear Lake — it’s unseasonably cool because of the wildfires.” That was just one of those meteorological idiosyncrasies, attempting to reach back deep into long-forgotten geography lessons, that may seem obvious to those on the Prairies. But for the outsider, a visitor from Toronto, and indeed a relative newcomer to Canada, it was certainly a shock, and a stark reminder that I would be flying into a province still under a state of emergency, which had until recently been decimated by wildfires. It was also an introduction into what may be considered ‘normal’.

Visiting Manitoba this August was extraordinary — the people most certainly lived up to the “friendly” billing that adorns the licence plates, and the scenery of Riding Mountain National Park was worth the trip alone. However, there were a number of topics of conversation that made me question what I had come to know as accepted wisdom.

Talk about fishing restrictions, Indigenous rights, oil and gas permeated discussions, with healthy, good spirited debates. But for me, the most vexing issue was wildfires. More specifically, the extent of their aftermath, effects, and associated restrictions, have become normalized.

Wildfires have burnt throughout Canada since time immemorial, and they will always pose a threat. However, the sheer number and size, as well as their geographic distribution from coast to coast, has created a new sense of urgency.

The statistics demonstrate in cold hard facts just how bad 2025 has been. This year, there have been 417 fires in Manitoba, up 100 on the 10-year average. And whilst the total number this year nationwide is below average, it is the extent of area burned that is causing such havoc. Over two million hectares in Manitoba have been burnt, nearly 10 times the provincial average. Across Canada, that figure is nearly eight million hectares, more than double what is normal.

It really does bear repeating, because it is so easy to fall for denialism and avoidance, but this is not normal.

It should not be normal for Canadian cities to have the worst air quality in the world, for the summer sky to be discoloured by a post-apocalyptic haze, for complaints about air quality to pass for everyday conversation as if discussing the weather, to contemplate quitting outdoor sport over respiratory fears, to hear and read news of disaster within the country as a bit-part story, and even to bizarrely join the growing diatribe of anti-Canadian tosh from south of the border.

And this was before leaving Toronto, before coming to the coal face. As it turns out, my fears about needing an evacuation route were overblown, and I’m extremely glad I was able to witness the beauty and hospitality of the province. But even the fact of visiting a province under a state of emergency, with tens of thousands of its inhabitants forced into evacuating, sat uneasily.

This should not be normal. Unfortunately, with the climate crisis showing no sign of abating, wildfire seasons like this run the risk of becoming the new normal. That should not imbue us, authorities, society as a whole, from becoming numb to the threat, the side effects, and the urgency of the situation, necessitating greater action.

Wildfires will happen, but it is about reducing the likelihood of any fire starting, or spreading, and having the tools to take this action. Barry E. Prentice wrote in these pages about drones and wildfire detection, and the exciting technological possibilities (The role drones can play in wildfire detection, Aug. 20). That would go hand in hand with traditional fire and rescue operations, greater utilization of Indigenous knowledge of forest management, and indeed reducing carbon emissions to tackle the climate crisis.

But beyond policymakers, society itself should not abrogate responsibility, nor come to view wildfire seasons like this as acceptable. From an individual perspective it is easy to look at the news and give in to the temptation of hopelessness, exuding a nihilistic shrug at the deteriorating planet because, quite frankly, what can one person do?

Adapting to the situation is prudent, and there is every chance we must learn to live with this increased risk. That should not mean we meekly accept disaster as an everyday fact of life though. Discussions about forest fires and air quality should not be as routine as chats about rainfall and pollen. Our language should not adapt to normalize the threat levels, but rather purvey the imperative for collective action.

Tom Law is a freelance writer and recent political science graduate who moved to Canada two years ago.