A Meteorologist’s Perspective on the Hill Country Floods

First, let me be clear: this post isn’t written to diminish the tragedy of the recent flash flooding in Central Texas. The loss of life is horrific, and but for the timing—many summer camps between terms—it could have been even worse. My heart goes out to every family affected.

As a meteorologist, I feel compelled to address the political commentary that’s emerged in the wake of this disaster. I have been critical of cuts to NOAA and the National Weather Service, but let me be clear: those trying to link these floods to those cuts reveal a fundamental misunderstanding of both meteorology and, more importantly, the human decency owed to the victims at this time.

This wasn’t a failure of forecasting. It wasn’t forecastable. What happened in the Hill Country is eerily similar to what Houston experienced during Harvey: a tropical system—in this case, the remnants of Barry—became trapped and dumped copious amounts of rain over a concentrated area. In both cases, meteorologists could see the potential for heavy rain, but no responsible forecaster would or could predict the exact magnitude or location of the worst flooding ahead of time.

We have a duty as meteorologists to maintain public trust. Warning fatigue is real, and the chase for ratings has already eroded credibility when it comes to extreme forecasts. Issuing a forecast that calls for outlier rainfall totals without sufficient certainty doesn’t make us look bold—it risks undermining trust in all future warnings. And that loss of trust can cost lives when we truly need the public to act on clear, actionable alerts.

By the time the gravity of this situation was apparent, it was too late. In some places, water was rising at more than an inch a minute—in the middle of the night. This happened in an area where spotty cell service is seen as an asset, not a liability, making it even harder for warnings to reach those in harm’s way.

Six inches of fast-moving water is enough to knock a person off their feet and sweep them away. Add debris carried by the floodwaters, and for someone awakened by the flood, the situation was already not survivable.

Just like during Harvey, when the floodgates had to be opened, by the time the decision was made and the water began pouring through, the danger was already imminent. No alert system can outpace a flood that moves that fast.

For now, the focus must remain where it belongs: on recovering the missing, consoling those who’ve suffered unimaginable loss, and supporting recovery efforts. There will be a time for assessment when the situation calms.

When that time comes, we owe it to the victims—and to ourselves—to engage in that process with clarity, compassion, and civility. Blame and outrage won’t prevent the next tragedy. Practical planning, honest evaluation, and civil discourse will help to implement solutions to lessen the magnitude of the next disaster.

One area where we can and should do better is recognizing the mental health toll of disasters like this. The DSM-V needs to be updated to reflect weather-induced trauma reactions, which are just as real and impactful as PTSD. Helping survivors heal – not assigning blame -must be our priority in the weeks ahead

Equally important, we must steadfastly rebuke those who try to politicize this tragedy. We need to recognize the basic human dignity of those who are grieving, and show the same courtesy, respect, and compassion that we received during Harvey. Those who stoop to cheap political points need to be held accountable. We can and must do better as a society.