Weather Whiplash: Fasten Your Seatbelts
- Gregory Andrews
- 13 hours ago
- 3 min read
Climate disasters often reveal something unexpected. Not just how vulnerable our landscapes have become, but how easily we mistake the real story. I was yarning with someone this week about the catastrophic fires sweeping through France. Their immediate response was, "Oh yes... this is really going to wreck French wines."
I don't blame them. In fact, I suspect many of us would instinctively reach for the same sort of observation. We relate to climate change through the things we know and enjoy - favourite foods and drinks, ski and summer holidays, or rising insurance premiums.
But climate chaos is never really about the wine. It's about people losing their homes. It's about forests disappearing in days. It's about exhausted firefighters battling infernos of a scale their country has never experienced. It's about ecosystems that take generations to recover, if at all. And increasingly, it's about permanent and dramatic destabilisation of the climate itself.
France isn't just losing a wine vintage. It's living through one of the most extraordinary climate disasters in its modern history. Entire communities have been evacuated. Almost a quarter of a million people have been forced to flee their homes. Forests are burning on a scale never before recorded, and firefighters are battling blazes so intense they’re creating their own weather systems.
What's different this time is not simply the scale. It's that scientists have already completed what's known as climate attribution. Researchers from the World Weather Attribution consortium have already concluded that the hot, dry and windy conditions driving these fires were made significantly worse by human-caused climate change. In south-west France, those fire-prone conditions are now around twice as likely because of global warming.
This isn't speculation. It isn't politics. It isn't ideology. And it certainly isn't a climate scam. It's the science catching up almost in real time with the disaster unfolding before our eyes.
One phrase from the scientists particularly struck me: Weather whiplash. After a wet winter and spring, vegetation flourished across much of western Europe. Then came record-breaking heat, successive heatwaves, drought and strong winds. The lush growth became millions of tonnes of dry fuel waiting for a spark.
Climate change isn't simply making places hotter. It's making the climate itself more volatile. It's increasing the violent swings between wet and dry that turn healthy landscapes into explosive ones.
And Australians understand this story all too well. We've seen it before. Years of good rain encourage grasses, shrubs and forests to flourish. Dams fill. Rivers flow. The bush breathes again. We celebrate the return of green. But then the pattern flips. Heat intensifies. Humidity disappears. Winds strengthen. The very vegetation that symbolised recovery becomes fuel.
As I write this, much of Australia is enjoying one of the mildest winters in living memory. Some people will inevitably ask, "Where's global warming?" They're asking the wrong question. Climate change has never meant every place gets hotter every day. It means the climate system becomes increasingly unstable. Extremes become more common. Records fall more often. The swings become sharper. What was once considered unprecedented slowly becomes familiar.
Europe is discovering this in fire. Australia has already lived through Black Summer. And now after several wet years across much of the country, a Super El Niño is emerging. We know what that combination produces. The grass has grown. The forests have thickened. The fuel is there. If the forecasts are right, a hot, dry summer will transform that abundance into danger with frightening speed.
That's weather whiplash. It's the increasingly violent swing from abundance to emergency that a warming climate is making more likely. France isn’t just a tragedy unfolding on the other side of the world. It's a glimpse through the windscreen at the road ahead.
So unless you're on the melting ski fields, enjoy this mild winter while it lasts. But before summer arrives, it will be time to fasten our seatbelts. The turbulence ahead is unlikely to be temporary. It's the new climate reality. France is burning today. We should be preparing before the next shock arrives on our own doorstep.

