In college, my older daughter performed in Urinetown, a Tony-winning, surprisingly prescient musical about water. More specifically, the lack of water. Set in a dystopian future with a severe water shortage, the plot follows an uprising against a corrupt corporation that controls public restrooms. Consumption of liquids is carefully monitored and tested—too much use of the public facilities might indicate illicit water use. Even tea bag use is surveilled. Musical highlights include “It’s a Privilege to Pee” and “I See a River.” Satirical in tone but damning in its implications, Urinetown sets the weaponization of water to music. But not everyone is singing.
Climatologists posit that within the not-too-distant future, the safest place to live in the United States will be the northern Midwest. The reason is water—fresh water. The Great Lakes, to be more specific. As the planet grows ever warmer and storms more volatile, access to abundant, fresh inland water will be limited and valuable.
We tend to take water for granted. We just open the tap and, voila! But in much of the world, water is already an endangered commodity. Water has already been weaponized, used to control and punish enemies.
