Entrevista Manel Hernandez, Director Agencia Catalana de l'Aigua

Entrevista de Manel Hernandez, Director de l'Agencia Catalana de l'Aigua. 29 febrer 2008. El Mati de Catalunya Radio amb Toni Basses.

"De la sequera l'hem de convertir en oportunitat." Manel Hernandez.
"We must turn this drought into an opportunity."

The drought is now on the front pages of the newspapers in Barcelona. Shortages are at historic lows. A proposal to transfer water from the Ebre watershed to the Llobregat watershed has upset farmers, and the political opposition is using the issue as an opportunity to attack the Catalan government. The pressure for "answers" is mounting. Where is the pressure for more questions? How can water be managed more effectively? Where are there inefficiencies in the water network? How is the water cycle managed? What is the long term management plan for Catalonia's water resources and watersheds? What are the historic trends in water supply and water demand? What options are on the table to address the water shortages?

Compass and Gyroscope: Integrating Science and Politics for the Environment. Kai N. Lee 1993.

Kai N. Lee builds on his experience as a member of the Northwest Power Planning Council to argue for adaptive management in public policy making. Lee decribes a policy world which blurs the boundaries between science and policy. Good policy, in effect, draws from the scientific method to ensure individual, social and institutional learning. The most common approach to ecosystem management, trial and error, is simply not good enough. Policies and practices must be directed to test specific hypothesis about how ecosystems work. The institutional context must embrace a learning environment, be willing to admit mistakes, and acknowledge the high degree of uncertainty involved in ecosystem management. Since these institutional conditions rarely hold, Lee outlines general guidelines for managers seeking to apply adaptive management principles in their shop. He speaks first and foremost as a scientist, but as an extraordinarily experienced policy maker as well. The necessary absractions are supported with concrete examples from the management of the Columbia River Basin.

Ann L. Riley 1998. Restoring Streams in Cities: A Guide for Planners, Policymakers, and Citizens.

Ann L. Riley has an excellent chapter relating planning theory to watershed management. As a student in a planning department, I am surrounded by planners and planning jargon, but until today, I had not yet read anyone who could explicitly connect planning theory with watershed planning. Riley has made this connection by categorizing different watershed planning initiatives according to the planning school that the initiative adopted.

The school of comprehensive planning relies on rational methods, scientific objectivity and the completion of concrete goals. A comprehensive watershed plan will usually start with an exhaustive inventory of the biology, hydrology, soils, geology, industry, zoning etc… Comprehensive watershed plans tend to be expert driven and top down. This also makes them vulnerable to implosion during the implementation phase, without follow up, local resistance, and criticisms of “imposition” and “arbitrary government meddling”. Still, there are examples of successful comprehensive plans in unique circumstances, although Riley tends to favor more participatory approaches.

In contrast to comprehensive planning, incremental planners are more process oriented. Incremental planners look for a decentralized approach that is flexible and permits the integration of new information as it learned. Riley cites Abe Wolman who called watershed planning an "art rather than a science". The modus operandi of incremental planners fits with what ecologists are calling for to manage complex and variable systems under conditions of uncertainty. The incremental planning approach also matches the philosophy of adaptive management of learning by doing.

Then Riley discusses the community-based planning school and its offshoots such as advocacy planning, consensus planning and conflict resolution. Riley notes that, historically, these approaches were called “radical” planning. Of course, these methods have been so mainstreamed that the term “radical” is really a misnomer. After sharing Riley's clasification of community-based planners with colleagues here at the department, they disputed this simplification . It also strikes me that conflict resolution should be a central part of any planning process. Any good watershed planner should have basic skills in conflict resolution, negotiation, mediation and facilitation. These are the soft skills that can disentangle gridlock and catapult projects forward.

The trend is clearly toward more inclusive planning processes. Past mistakes with top down approaches are generating new hybridized models. I also feel that it would be a mistake to totally disregard any of the planning schools completely. They all have a contribution to make, and neither are they mutually exclusive. Different conditions probably call for different approaches. It would probably be wrong to approach watershed planning from a purely ideological perspective, and try to force a particular “school” onto a community. Rather, one should be aware of the pitfalls in each approach, and mix and match to construct an effective process.

Codina, Jaume. 1971. El Delta del Llobregat i Barcelona. & Codina, J. 1971. Inundacions al Delta del Llobregat.

What distinguishes environmental history and the history of ecology? How do these historical approaches manifest themselves in Europe? Does this distinction exist? If it does, how do Europeans draw the boundaries? If these boundaries have not been drawn, could this distinction offer insight for a new interpretation of the Llobregat’s past? Finally, how does this distinction help inform river restoration?

These questions are in the back of my mind as I read about the history of the Llobregat Delta. El Delta del Llobregat i Barcelona (1971) by the Catalan geographer and historian Jaume Codina, takes readers on a voyage through 400 years of history. This thick and ambitious piece is the culmination of Codina’s doctoral dissertation where he makes a larger argument about the evolving livelihoods of Delta residents and their independence from the influences of Barcelona. Still, the struggle to tame and manage the Llobregat River is a major theme of the book.

The depth of human history on the banks of the Llobregat is astounding. People have been drinking from the Llobregat, washing, urinating and defecating in the Llobregat for thousands of years. Water concessions go back more than 700 years. In 1273, the King of Catalonia and Aragon, Jaume I, gave a water concession to the Abat of San Cugat del Valles to take water from the Llobregat at Sant Boi and transport it to take to the delta for irrigation. In 1321, Jaume II gave a concession for water use for mills.

Codina chronicles the struggle to tame the Llobregat River and minimize flood damage. The overflowing waters of the Llobregat threatened to wash away months of agricultural labor, the winter’s food supply, and often took their lives. The residents of Sant Boi were pioneered the flood control efforts in 1597 by building a stone wall (reclosa) along the river bank to defend their property. Codina reminds us that the towns along the Llobregat were very small, several with only 20 households. Today, Sant Boi, Cornella, and Hospitalet are bustling cities of nearly a million. With such a small populations in the 16th century, the constructions probably represented a major burden on the residents. Nevertheless, these walls didn’t last long, as the river easily flooded them out repeatedly. Eventually, the various towns along the Llobregat, including l’Hospitalet, and Cornella, began building a communal levee system. But alas, they built it too close to the Llobregat, and it too was repeatedly flooded. Plus, they had the problem of sheep and cattle climbing on the wall and breaking it down. In 1638 the towns coordinated to give the Llobregat a 200 meter flood plain on each side. Records show that enormous amounts of money were invested into this project. Still, the Llobregat won out, and flooded the walls. Residents threw up their hands in despair, and the communal wall project was abandoned for 200 years.

An entire chapter is dedicated to the health problems that haunted Delta residents. In addition to the major European epidemics that plagued cities everywhere, the towns in the Delta had local sicknesses that emanated from the still waters pooling in the flatlands of the Delta. Historical documents recall that Delta residents had unusual fevers, and many spent more than ¾ of the year sick with the fever. The deplorable health conditions motivated residents to study a diversion plan from the Llobregat to flush out still water that accumulated in the Delta.

Codina’s book also stands out for what it does not say. There is no mention of how the pollution from salt and potassium mines upstream impacted populations downstream. I was looking for a connection between the mines and the quality of life of river dwellers, and at least in Codina’s history, this connection does not surface. He does mention the first industries to arrive to the lower Llobregat River Valley.

Year Industry Name Sector Location
1903 Jaime Trías y Cía Textiles L’Hospitalet
1914 Compañia Roca Sanitaris Gavà
1917 La Papelera Española Paper El Prat
1925 La Seda de Barcelona Textiles El Prat

As a social geographer, Codina does not divorce human interventions and river evolution. I would categorize Codina as more of an environmental history than a history of ecology.

The environmental history of Europe lacks the dramatic wilderness narrative that dominates the United States. Humans have interacted with the Llobregat River before Roman times. Pre-Roman civilizations such as the Ibers lived in Sant Boi del Llobregat on the banks of the Llobregat river.

Codina’s small booklet Inundacions al Delta del Llobregat meticulously covers historical references to flooding events in the Llobregat Delta. Codina counts references to floods since the 12th century up to 1971. He tallied them by season, and it was surprising to see that 54.7% of the floods were in the summer. Only 16.5% were in the winter, also 16.5% in the fall and merely 12.3% in the spring. This is counter-intuitive since the rain pattern in this part of the Mediterranean is in the spring and fall. Plus, one would assume that spring melting in the Pyrenees would contribute to flooding. This does not seem to be the case. More than half the floods occurred in the dry season when, in theory, it rains least. This suggests that rainfall volume and rainfall intensity are inversely related. Summer brings little rain, but it is very intense.