Now, as the region weathers its driest winter in recent history, a reckoning has arrived. By the end of September, the seven states need to agree on a new set of rules that will determine how to divvy up the river\u2019s flow during dry years.<\/p>\n
Since the river\u2019s reservoirs almost collapsed in 2022, however, the state\u2019s lead negotiators have been arguing in boardrooms and on Zoom calls with little to show for it. They missed a negotiation deadline in November and another one in February, with each state publishing catty press releases blaming the other side for a breakdown in talks: Colorado\u2019s representative said that the Upper Basin was \u201cbeing asked to solve a problem we didn\u2019t create with water we don\u2019t have,\u201d while Arizona\u2019s said that the Lower Basin had \u201coffered numerous, good-faith compromises\u201d and that \u201cvirtually all of them have been rejected.\u201d<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, a nearly snow-free winter is pushing reservoirs toward record lows. The river could grow so dry this year that its massive Lake Powell reservoir will stop producing hydropower.<\/p>\n
Without a deal, the Trump administration will need to get involved. So far, Trump\u2019s Interior Secretary Doug Burgum has shown little willingness to impose the river\u2019s first-ever unilateral water delivery cuts, which could bring the river into balance. But time is running out. The administration has said that, in the absence of a seven-state deal, it will distribute water on a strict \u201cpriority\u201d basis, meaning those who have earlier historical claims to the river would be spared cuts. That would mean cutting off almost all water to the junior rightsholders in the Phoenix metro area \u2014 with staggering consequences for the region\u2019s massive economy. That said, any federal intervention would almost certainly only be the first salvo in a legal war that would likely reach the Supreme Court.\u00a0<\/p>\n
What happens after that is a mystery to all involved.<\/p>\n
The Biden administration confronted an earlier version of this crisis in 2022, when water levels in Lake Powell and Lake Mead, the Lower Basin\u2019s other major reservoir, dropped to historic lows. The feds tried to broker an emergency deal between the Lower Basin states to keep the reservoirs from bottoming out. The combatants were California, the river\u2019s largest user, and Arizona, which had junior rights to the river<\/a> and stood to bear the brunt of the pain.<\/p>\n Biden\u2019s Interior Department escaped a total collapse of the system in part thanks to a deus ex machina: Snowpack in early 2023 was sufficient to refill Lake Mead and Lake Powell to decent levels, and then-Senator Kyrsten Sinema secured billions of dollars in drought relief money that compensated California farmers<\/a> for forgoing their water and leaving some fields unplanted.<\/p>\n The terms of debate are very different this time. Now, the seven states need to cut their way through the present drought and agree on rules for sharing the river over the next two decades, when no one knows how much water will be available. Arizona and California are united in arguing that the Upper Basin states of Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, and New Mexico need to commit to permanent reductions in their entitlement. The latter have rejected that argument at every opportunity, leading to a bitter breakdown in the talks.<\/p>\n Brad Udall, a senior water and climate research scientist at Colorado State University\u2019s Colorado Water Center, said the disagreement boils down to what counts as a cut in water delivery.<\/p>\n \u201cThe disagreement really centers around whether the Upper Basin is willing to contribute to reductions in use,\u201d he said, \u201cand the Upper Basin says, \u2018Hey, we already contribute,\u2019 through what are known as \u2018hydrologic shortages.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n These \u201chydrologic shortages\u201d have become the third rail of the debate. The argument goes like this: The Upper Basin\u2019s water comes from the natural flow of rain and snowmelt, which travel down the river\u2019s tributaries on the way to Lake Powell. The farmers and cities who use this water siphon it out of the tributaries before it ever makes it to a major reservoir. When less snow arrives, there\u2019s less water in the rivers, so the farmers and cities end up using less by default.\u00a0<\/p>\n That\u2019s very different from the Lower Basin, where the three states and Mexico take water from the central \u201cbank\u201d in Lake Mead. These states reduce their withdrawals during dry years according to a strict schedule of cuts\u00a0\u2014 which they\u2019re able to do because they can easily measure their exact usage. The negotiators for these states have strenuously argued that a long-term solution to the river\u2019s problems must involve the Upper Basin agreeing to mandatory usage reductions during dry years, rather than operating on the long-held assumption that they\u2019re already automatically taking cuts just because less snowmelt happens to come their way.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cWe have offered to do more,\u201d said Tom Buschatzke, Arizona\u2019s top water official, in a statement following the collapse of the seven-state talks. \u201cBut we simply cannot take on the task of saving this precious river system on our own.\u201d<\/p>\n The Upper Basin states insist that they already contribute by taking involuntary cuts during dry years. They want the Lower Basin to increase its projected cuts in order to resolve the river\u2019s perennial deficit. Most experts believe this argument is disingenuous, or, as Udall says, \u201ca little deceitful.\u201d Studies show that the Upper Basin is using around 4.5 million acre-feet of water annually, a number that doesn\u2019t change all that much from year to year even during dry spells. (An acre-foot of water is around 326,000 gallons, or enough to supply about three households for a year.)<\/p>\n But Upper Basin representatives don\u2019t see it that way. Steve Pope, the manager of the irrigation district that serves the Uncompahgre Valley in Colorado, says farmers in the valley have already struggled with water scarcity over the past few decades. He says growers take a huge financial hit when they get less water than they expect.<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t know what we\u2019re going to get,\u201d said Pope. \u201cThese [farmers], it\u2019s tough for them. They\u2019ve got a lot of money invested in certain types of crops, so they just have to fallow ground.\u201d Given that uncertainty, Pope says the idea of the district taking mandatory cuts is \u201cridiculous.\u201d<\/p>\n Trump\u2019s Interior Department suggested in January that it can only regulate the operations of the two main reservoirs, and that it has no authority to order Upper Basin farmers like Pope not to farm.<\/p>\n \u201c[The federal government] is very timid about going out on a limb at all for things that might set a precedent,\u201d said Ted Cooke, the former manager of the Central Arizona Project, the canal that brings Colorado River water to the state\u2019s population centers. \u201cThis timidity really limits their effectiveness.\u201d (Cooke was nominated by President Donald Trump to lead the Bureau of Reclamation last year, but his nomination was withdrawn over what he believes were politically-motivated concerns<\/a> that he might be biased against the Upper Basin in adjudicating the river.)<\/p>\n If Secretary Burgum sticks to his position that he can\u2019t resolve the debate between the Upper Basin and the Lower Basin, his only option for avoiding a collapse at Lake Powell will be to roll out unilateral cuts on the Lower Basin. This would likely trigger litigation between Arizona and the federal government. But if Burgum changed course and imposed unilateral cuts on the Upper Basin, a state such as Colorado would likely sue the feds instead. And even if Burgum did nothing at all, it\u2019s likely that the Lower Basin would sue the Upper Basin. Inflows to Lake Powell may fall so low by the end of the year that the Upper Basin will be in default of its obligations under the 1922 river compact, which requires that the river\u2019s flow be split half and half between the basins. This would allow Arizona to demand makeup water from its northern neighbors.\u00a0<\/p>\n Though litigation seems inevitable without a seven-state deal, no water user actually wants to go to court. Once water divisions are in the hands of a judge, no state can be sure that its interests will be protected.<\/p>\n \u201cThe idea that your state is going to come out a winner \u2014 and you\u2019re confident of that \u2014 makes no sense,\u201d said John Berggren, regional policy manager at the nonprofit Western Resource Advocates.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat it does is it puts your water users at extreme risk.\u201d<\/p>\n Even if Burgum plays it safe and only imposes cuts on the Lower Basin, these cuts will force him to choose between California\u2019s priority rights and Arizona\u2019s arguably greater need. The Interior Department has already suggested it would feel bound to direct most of the pain to Arizona. The department said in January that \u201cabsent new agreements\u201d it would distribute cuts according to legal priority, which would take away more than 1 million acre-feet of water from Phoenix and its suburbs. That would likely lead developers to abandon potential subdivisions, force farmers to rip up their fields, and could cause a resumption in the depletion of Phoenix\u2019s fragile groundwater aquifer.\u00a0<\/p>\n Arizona state leaders have already threatened litigation over this possibility, and a political advocacy group has begun airing local television ads<\/a> that criticize the Interior Department\u2019s priority plan. Plus, even this draconian cut wouldn\u2019t necessarily prevent a collapse of the river, because it would cap the total amount of cuts at around 1.5 million acre-feet spread across Arizona, California, and Nevada. The federal government\u2019s own modeling found that this plan would only have a 25 percent chance of avoiding a hydropower shutdown at Lake Powell, and around a 58 percent chance of avoiding a similar \u201cminimum power pool\u201d at Lake Mead.\u00a0<\/p>\n Not everyone thinks the seven-state deal is a dead letter. John Entsminger, the lead negotiator for Nevada, expressed optimism about at least a short-term deal<\/a> as recently as the end of January. Last summer, the states rallied around the idea of measuring the river based on its \u201cnatural flow,\u201d dividing up the three-year average of the river\u2019s recent water volume as opposed to a static estimate of its theoretical contents. This plan has the benefit of being responsive to climate change, which has already contributed to a 20 percent decline in the Colorado River\u2019s annual flow over the past century.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cWe would not be over-promising water, which has led us in past years to draw down our reservoir storage,\u201d explained Elizabeth Koebele, a professor at the University of Nevada, Reno, who studies the river. \u201cPeople get promises and they hold on to them very strongly, even if the water is not there.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n Despite Trump\u2019s declarations that climate change is a \u201choax,\u201d his Interior Department has given strong consideration to this climate-informed \u201cmaximum operational flexibility\u201d plan. It modeled a version of the plan in January, but said it didn\u2019t have the authority to implement it without agreement from all seven states. The plan would see all states reduce water usage even during average years, as opposed to only in dry years under the current system. It would parcel out cuts more evenly between Arizona and California. It would also include some contributions from the Upper Basin \u2014 in one potential breakdown, Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming would reduce their usage by around 250,000 acre-feet when the Lower Basin had cut usage by more than 2 million.\u00a0<\/p>\n Although the coming year is likely to be chaotic, many of the basin\u2019s biggest water users have been preparing for this era of permanent cuts for some time. Arizona has already announced<\/a> its intention to start investing in coastal desalination plants<\/a> in coordination with California and Mexico, which would free up more river water. The state has also stepped up its spending on water reuse projects<\/a>. Las Vegas has paid residents to rip out their grass lawns<\/a>. Utah has established a voluntary conservation program<\/a> that pays farmers not to farm.<\/p>\n But the long-term solution will likely involve a bigger reshuffling of water in order to forestall an economic crisis in the Phoenix metroplex. Arizona may look to California for salvation: The large urban water district that serves Los Angeles, the farming district in the Imperial Valley, and the winter vegetable farming district around Yuma all hold rights to more water than they need, and they might be willing to deal some of their water to central Arizona, albeit at a high price. There are also two tribes in Arizona, the Colorado River Indian Tribes and the Gila River Indian Community, who each hold about half a million acre-feet of water.<\/p>\n Even with all this rejiggering, cities like Phoenix will end up having to pay much more for water, said Cooke. The rush on water supplies will force difficult cuts in water usage for farms, lawns, swimming pools, and unbuilt homes.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re going to have less water and what we do have is going to be a lot more expensive, and that happens right now, in the next twelve months,\u201d he said. \u201cEven with all of these political and contractual disagreements, the surface water is just not there anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"The Colorado River currently supports 40 million people and $1.4 trillion in annual economic activity in seven U.S.…\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":501517,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[47],"tags":[15229,192,63208,6382,111,79,6383],"class_list":["post-501516","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-environment","tag-drought","tag-environment","tag-longform","tag-news-analysis","tag-politics","tag-science","tag-yahoo"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/501516","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=501516"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/501516\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/501517"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=501516"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=501516"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=501516"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"An](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Yuma.jpg\")
An irrigation canal carries water from the Colorado River to irrigate a farm growing leaf lettuce and broccoli near Yuma, Arizona.
\n Jon G. Fuller \/ VWPics \/ Universal Images Group via Getty Images<\/p>\n![\"A](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Lake-Mead-bathtub-ring-1.jpg\")
A bleached \u201cbathtub ring\u201d on the banks of Lake Mead near Echo Bay, Nevada. The Colorado River\u2019s two main reservoirs are emptying out again after a dry winter.
Justin Sullivan \/ Getty Images<\/p>\n