The Ancient Water Tech They Didn’t Teach Us in School
7. But why is it still relevant, 1200 years on? (8 min read)
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In 710 A. D, the Moors from North Africa invaded Spain, in modern day Andalusia.
Their first task: Digging several ditches called acequias (derived from the Arab word as-saqiya) to farm in the dry valleys of the Spanish Sierra Nevada mountains.
Yet, a millennium later, it still thrives. The communities adopting this practice have prospered in places colonized by Spain, who introduced the system, mostly in the high mountain deserts of New Mexico and Colorado in the United States and in many parts of the South American Andes like Ecuador.
What made the acequias last so long? Can we learn from it to survive a warming planet where droughts abound? Welcome to this week’s Climatonomics.
Acequias are Small Ditches Carrying Water
Modern day canals are massive feats of civil engineering that are cut through the land. They redirect the waters from the rivers, often through dams, and supply entire states with millions of people.
Acequias are tame in comparison: narrow and barely noticeable from a distance, bringing water to different parts of a smaller region. The water flows by gravity directly to the community with a small population of a few hundreds to a couple of thousands, but rarely more. There is a primary ditch called the Acequia Madre (Spanish for the “Mother Ditch”). This is the artery of the system which brings the water from the source, usually a mountain snowmelt or a river. The other smaller acequias branch out from the Acequia Madre to various farms and households.
The first acequias built in Spain diverted snowmelt in the Sierra Nevada mountains. While melting snow in the spring would rush off the slope or through fast moving rivers, acequias slowed down the water by slowly meandering through the mountain paths. These paths were purpose-built by the Moors and their descendants, who referred to it as “water sowing”. Much like sowing crops today for harvest later, the meandering paths are designed to make water last longer and is available for “harvest” even during the dry season, when farmers needed to irrigate their crops.
The defining aspect of the acequia is its simplicity: Rarely are pipes and concrete used, and instead the ditches are just dug out in the earth. We will soon see the benefits of this.
Acequias are Owned by Communities, Not Businesses
The more I read about acequias (and visited some), the same theme kept repeating: That It’s about community, more than anything else. This might seem a vague claim. Isn’t water everywhere for the community?
As we’ll see, their claim holds water (pun intended, sorry). Most of us get water in our cities or towns from the public utilities system. How many of us know where the water sources are or where the pipes are? Do we know the people that manage it? I’d wager not. Because if you do, you probably are a member of an “Acequia community”. In places where acequias exist, the entire community is directly involved in its management.
The community appoints an “acequiero” (They are called by different names in various regions, but the role is the same) who is the manager of the acequia. Depending upon its size, they may also appoint a mayordomo or “ditch manager” whose job is to monitor the ditches and ensure that the water keeps flowing obstruction free through the right pathways. Where the acequia originates up the mountain from snowmelt, the managers hike the entire pathway to prevent rubble, mud and debris from changing its course.
Crucially, an acequiero must also understand how water flows through the vast network of rocks, crevices and underground channels, to adjust the pathways when needed. For instance, if there is a farm in the town that needs more water than usual, how can that be arranged? Remember, acequias are simple and follow the contours of the terrain, unlike heavily engineered modern systems, where the flow is controlled with machinery in dams and locks.
All this requires them to know the land like the back of their hand, and have a strong intuition of the topography. But this is not a skill that college teaches you. Therefore, most acequieros and ditch managers trained as apprentices by their elders: a practice that continues for generations. This rich generational knowledge accumulated over centuries makes them valuable members of the community.
Community Water Management is Philosophically Different
The community-driven nature of this system extends to how water is used. Just like ditch managers, the people also appoint a parciantes or “water rights manager”. This person’s role is to ensure equality, so that everyone in the community only gets water that is appropriate to their needs.
Translation: The family with the most wealth doesn’t get automatic priority for their orchards over a poor farmer trying to water his crops, unlike the modern capitalist system of modern water management. “I will fill up my swimming pool in the desert because I can pay the water bill” (Looking at you, Arizona) is not an excuse that will work well in the acequias. And don’t even get me started on water-guzzling abomination that is lawns. It isn't about how much you can pay, but how much you need.
But the people have a role too. Every year, the whole town gets together for a grand festival where they cook, eat together and help clean and repair the acequia. The Acequia Madre that brings all the water gets the most attention, and it is here the parciantes allot usage quotas to everyone. In summary, everyone does their part to keep the system going, and this has worked through wars, pestilence and empire changes (especially in the wild west New Mexico, which has changed hands several times over the centuries).
Key to their success? The parciantes allot water at the community level with one goal in mind: Sustainability. Involving all members of the society for a common good gives everyone an “ownership” about the future that a cash-for-water scheme never will. This cohesiveness is more important in times of water scarcity, which climate change is bringing our way. That brings us to the raging mess we have today…
… The Curse of The “Industrial Age Mindset”
In economic terms, the throughput is quantity of a resource (I), divided by how fast the resource can get to the customer (F). It is a rough measure of how fast and efficient you are at using a lot of resources to produce the end-product to sell in the markets. We built the industrial age on this foundation that the maximum extraction of resources will create a better life for us. This attitude permeates everything: How we manufacture cars, to how effective we are at digging out oil.
Here is a picture of a modern day canal (left) and an acequia (right). One looks well constructed with concrete-lined surfaces for smooth passage of water, while the other is rudimentary, with water having to flow through vegetation and soil.
Which system has higher throughput? Modern canals with smooth passages, or meandering acequias “losing” water to the earth?
Most likely you (like me) will say it’s our modern system, and so have our modern governments. Many urban planners also support this argument. But this points to a fundamental difference in mindset between us and our ancestors. Acequias were never about throughput, but about longevity and sustainability.
I call this our “Industrial Age Mindset” i.e. prioritizing throughput over longevity.
Acequias are designed to keep the balance of water flowing on the surface, which people use, and the water in the underground aquifers and rivers. By letting the water be in contact with the soil, the groundwater levels are continuously replenished, and the land is healthier and the water source stable over the long term.
The long term.
That is the missing factor in our industrial-age mindset. We have opted to maximize large scale resource usage for today, without safeguards in our system for tomorrow. With its communal focus, acequias are not meant for large scale agricultural overproduction, but for comfortable local consumption.
Acequia communities have been growing luscious, water-rich fruits and vegetables in the desert for centuries, while still having enough to sell in farmers’ markets nearby. Studies have found regions with healthy acequias promote rich biodiversity by nourishing plant and animal life. Acequias don’t just help the water flowing, they also help with natural flood control and prevent soil erosion.
A Vulnerable Future (But it Doesn’t Have To Be)
It is easy to think of this practice as ripe for corruption. After all, the appointed leaders of the acequia can have their own agendas. But how is the modern alternative faring? Here are a few examples:
Saudi Arabian companies are growing water-sucking alfalfa grass, in the heart of the desert in Arizona. Now, the city of Phoenix is running out of water for its own residents.
Coca Cola deserves special mention: The company sets up its bottling plants in remote areas like Indian villages, and overuse groundwater until they leave nothing for its residents.
(It’s also a legendary greenwashing expert, sponsoring this year’s COP27 climate summit for umm.. “climate resilience”? Or something like that. Details don’t matter, as long as it can run a PR campaign around it.)
In Spain, ironically, the home of the acequias, water overuse for tourism and commercial farming, has almost decimated a lake in the Doñana national park.
Though they seem unrelated, there is a common thread:
Water overuse is often in service of people that do not reside there.
Human tendency is to not care about places that they, or their families, will not inhabit. Conversely, Even the most greedy entrepreneurs can become conservationists, if they and their kids will live there (In case you were wondering, Acequias don’t sell water, and their system is protected by law).
But life is difficult with climate change. Several acequias are seeing reduced water flows, and in some regions, the youngsters have shown little interest in inheriting the generational knowledge from the elders. Yet, the community and need-driven approach makes them a proven alternative that has stood the test of time.
Decoupling people from their resources is the hallmark of the industrial age, and it has vastly improved quality of life. But the industrial age mindset leads to the deadly combination of apathy and unrestricted consumption, which if left unchecked, can force us back to square one.
The acequias show that, with water, less is more. Maybe it’s time for us to realize that.
https://tompendergast.substack.com/p/how-long-does-it-take-to-know-a-place (I linked to your article)
Such an important topic at a time when the Colorado River compact is starting to crumble. The acequia system provides at least a conceptual model for how to handle our shared water better.