Smoke season is not normal. Stop pretending it is.
As another plume of wildfire smoke blanketed Calgary a week after writing this column, the Air Quality Health Index climbed into the 'very high risk' category. Government advisories told us to stay indoors, avoid strenuous activity and check on vulnerable loved ones.
For many, it's a now familiar drill. Just another day in Canada's new climate rhythm: check the air quality index like the weather, cancel soccer practice if the air is thick, shrug and say, 'I guess this is summer now.'
But this normalization terrifies me.
I'm a physician, a father of two young children and someone who used to love biking to work. When I woke up recently and saw the haze, I hesitated. I'd biked the day before and enjoyed the exercise, the fresh(ish) air, the chance to feel like I was doing something positive. But biking through wildfire smoke just didn't feel worth it. I drove instead.
When I arrived, I saw two of my colleagues — both climate-conscious, clean-energy champions — rolling in on their road bikes, smiling, sweaty, unbothered. I joked that they were 'brave.' But inside, I felt something closer to heartbreak.
It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't about individual decisions. What unsettled me was what their cycling symbolized: how quickly we're adapting to disaster. How even those who understand the science — the urgency, the injustice — are adjusting to this as if it's just part of life.
This isn't a callout of them. We all make trade-offs. I've made my own imperfect choices — some far less healthy or sustainable than biking in the smoke.
For me, living through wildfire smoke with young children — knowing it was preventable — feels like a kind of slow-motion moral injury, writes Andrew Szava‑Kovats
But I'm haunted by how easily we move on.
We treat smoke like weather. We build apps to manage it. We compare it to last year's average. We forget that just a decade ago, this level of smoke wasn't 'summer.'
What we're experiencing is a shifting baseline — a gradual recalibration of what counts as 'normal.' And in that shift, we risk something more than comfort: we risk forgetting who's responsible.
Because this was not inevitable.
Fossil fuel companies knew as early as the 1970s that their products would destabilize the climate. Instead of changing course, they buried the evidence, seeded doubt and lobbied against clean alternatives. They weren't just complicit — they were deliberate.
To normalize the smoke season is to absolve them. To say this is 'just the way things are,' is to let decades of deception and greed fade into the rearview mirror. And I'm not ready to do that.
Nor should we.
There's a term in mental health called 'moral injury'— the psychic toll of witnessing or participating in actions that violate one's sense of right and wrong. For me, living through wildfire smoke with young children — knowing it was preventable — feels like a kind of slow-motion moral injury. We're expected to just carry on. But I can't shake the grief. And I'm not sure that I want to.
Grief, after all, is a form of remembering.
And remembering is resistance.
So what do we do with this grief?
We speak it. We refuse to let the smoke become background noise. We push governments to hold polluters accountable — not just through carbon pricing and net-zero timelines, but by naming the historical role of deception.
We challenge the narrative that everything is under control because we have apps and filters and advisories. Those are bandages. We need transformation.
We raise our kids with both honesty and hope — not pretending things are fine, but showing them what courage looks like in an age of collapse: community, accountability and clarity.
And maybe we allow ourselves the pause. The decision not to bike when the air burns. The permission to grieve. Because pretending we're okay when we're not isn't resilience — it's resignation.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
National Observer
a day ago
- National Observer
Smoke season is not normal. Stop pretending it is.
As another plume of wildfire smoke blanketed Calgary a week after writing this column, the Air Quality Health Index climbed into the 'very high risk' category. Government advisories told us to stay indoors, avoid strenuous activity and check on vulnerable loved ones. For many, it's a now familiar drill. Just another day in Canada's new climate rhythm: check the air quality index like the weather, cancel soccer practice if the air is thick, shrug and say, 'I guess this is summer now.' But this normalization terrifies me. I'm a physician, a father of two young children and someone who used to love biking to work. When I woke up recently and saw the haze, I hesitated. I'd biked the day before and enjoyed the exercise, the fresh(ish) air, the chance to feel like I was doing something positive. But biking through wildfire smoke just didn't feel worth it. I drove instead. When I arrived, I saw two of my colleagues — both climate-conscious, clean-energy champions — rolling in on their road bikes, smiling, sweaty, unbothered. I joked that they were 'brave.' But inside, I felt something closer to heartbreak. It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't about individual decisions. What unsettled me was what their cycling symbolized: how quickly we're adapting to disaster. How even those who understand the science — the urgency, the injustice — are adjusting to this as if it's just part of life. This isn't a callout of them. We all make trade-offs. I've made my own imperfect choices — some far less healthy or sustainable than biking in the smoke. For me, living through wildfire smoke with young children — knowing it was preventable — feels like a kind of slow-motion moral injury, writes Andrew Szava‑Kovats But I'm haunted by how easily we move on. We treat smoke like weather. We build apps to manage it. We compare it to last year's average. We forget that just a decade ago, this level of smoke wasn't 'summer.' What we're experiencing is a shifting baseline — a gradual recalibration of what counts as 'normal.' And in that shift, we risk something more than comfort: we risk forgetting who's responsible. Because this was not inevitable. Fossil fuel companies knew as early as the 1970s that their products would destabilize the climate. Instead of changing course, they buried the evidence, seeded doubt and lobbied against clean alternatives. They weren't just complicit — they were deliberate. To normalize the smoke season is to absolve them. To say this is 'just the way things are,' is to let decades of deception and greed fade into the rearview mirror. And I'm not ready to do that. Nor should we. There's a term in mental health called 'moral injury'— the psychic toll of witnessing or participating in actions that violate one's sense of right and wrong. For me, living through wildfire smoke with young children — knowing it was preventable — feels like a kind of slow-motion moral injury. We're expected to just carry on. But I can't shake the grief. And I'm not sure that I want to. Grief, after all, is a form of remembering. And remembering is resistance. So what do we do with this grief? We speak it. We refuse to let the smoke become background noise. We push governments to hold polluters accountable — not just through carbon pricing and net-zero timelines, but by naming the historical role of deception. We challenge the narrative that everything is under control because we have apps and filters and advisories. Those are bandages. We need transformation. We raise our kids with both honesty and hope — not pretending things are fine, but showing them what courage looks like in an age of collapse: community, accountability and clarity. And maybe we allow ourselves the pause. The decision not to bike when the air burns. The permission to grieve. Because pretending we're okay when we're not isn't resilience — it's resignation.
Calgary Herald
11-06-2025
- Calgary Herald
Feeling hazy from the wildfire smoke? Here's why
With seasonal wildfire smoke rolling into Calgary, residents often have questions about all the things that come with it. Article content On June 11, Environment Canada issued an air quality warning for Calgary between the AQHI categories of 7 and 10 over the last 24 hours. Article content Article content But what does that mean? How are these measured? And how does it affect the health and safety of Calgarians? Experts from across the province explain how air quality is measured and the risks that come with it. Article content Article content Article content Christy Climenhaga, a scientist with Environment and Climate Change Canada, said Canada's Air Quality Health Index serves as a way to help evaluate the adverse effects of wildfire smoke. Article content The index itself ranges from one to 10-plus, with different brackets indicating each risk factor. For example, indexes between one to three indicate a low risk, four to six indicate a moderate risk, and seven to 10 indicate a high risk. Article content 'So, the higher the number, the higher the risk,' Climenhaga said. 'When you're looking at seven, eight, nine, you are in that high-risk category, while 10 and 10-plus are very high risk in terms of negative health effects from wildfire smoke.' Article content The rating is determined by looking at the fine particulate matter. This matter is also known as PM2.5, which is extremely small particles in the air. It measures around 2.5 micrometers, and cannot be seen by the human eye. Article content Article content Article content Based on their observations, Climenhaga said a number of fires over northern Alberta and B.C. have lofted heavy plumes of smoke into the atmosphere. Additionally, a large and intense plume of smoke that stretches across all of Alberta and Saskatchewan are contributing to the smoke arriving in Calgary. Article content 'It's likely going to keep going to be a smoky day today, and we are starting to see some changes in our long-range forecasts, indicating a little smoke on Thursday, then starting to clear out on Friday,' she said.
Calgary Herald
11-06-2025
- Calgary Herald
Feeling hazy because of the smoke? Here's why
With seasonal wildfire smoke rolling into Calgary, residents often have questions about all the things that come with it. Article content On June 11, Environment Canada issued an air quality warning for Calgary between the AQHI categories of 7 and 10 over the last 24 hours. Article content Article content But what does that mean? How are these measured? And how does it affect the health and safety of Calgarians? Experts from across the province explain how air quality is measured and the risks that come with it. Article content Article content Article content Christy Climenhaga, a scientist with Environment and Climate Change Canada, said that Canada's Air Quality Health Index serves as a way to help evaluate the adverse effects of wildfire smoke. Article content The index itself ranges from one to 10-plus, with different brackets indicating each risk factor. For example, indexes between one to three indicate a low risk, four to six indicate a moderate risk, and seven to 10 indicate a high risk. Article content 'So, the higher the number, the higher the risk,' Climenhaga said. 'When you're looking at seven, eight, nine, you are in that high risk category, while 10 and 10-plus are very high risk in terms of negative health effects from wildfire smoke.' Article content The rating is determined by looking at the fine particulate matter. This matter is also known as PM2.5, which is extremely small particles in the air. It measures around 2.5 micrometers, and cannot be seen by the human eye. Article content Article content Article content Based on their observations, Climenhaga said a number of fires over northern Alberta and B.C. have lofted heavy plumes of smoke into the atmosphere. Additionally, a large and intense plume of smoke that stretches across all of Alberta and Saskatchewan are contributing to the smoke that is arriving in Calgary. Article content 'It's likely going to keep going to be a smoky day today, and we are starting to see some changes in our long-range forecasts, indicating a little smoke on Thursday, then starting to clear out on Friday,' she said.
