In “Pluribus,” the weird and engaging sci-fi series from the creators of “Breaking Bad,” there’s a scene that is meant to be horrifying. The central character, Carol (Rhea Seehorn), discovers a refrigerated warehouse of human body parts, butchered and wrapped for storage, waiting to be processed into a protein powder that is the mainstay of the diet of what’s left of the population on Earth.

Carol is aghast and eager to spread the news of this disturbing revelation, only to find that in a world of rapidly declining natural resources, recycling human remains into food is widely accepted as a necessary adaptation to environmental collapse.

Similarly, in Ian McEwan’s latest novel, “What We Can Know,” the characters living in 22nd century post-apocalyptic England dine largely on packaged protein bars of indeterminate origin.

No burgers, steaks, fajitas. No Boeuf Bourguignon. No Nashville chicken. 

And the meatless menus have nothing to do with woke politics. They’re all about survival on an unforgiving planet.

Meanwhile, here in Colorado circa 2025 the snow is not falling. 

The Colorado Snow Survey reports the average snowpack statewide is a measly 60% of the median for this time of year. Several ski resorts, including Telluride and Beaver Creek, have delayed openings, and my beloved Nordic trails at Devil’s Thumb Ranch opened briefly only to close again due to inadequate snow.

In many areas, the temperatures are too high for snowmaking. In others, the truly ardent skiers among us are limited to narrow ribbons of death where snowmaking machines are running ’round-the-clock to cover the rocks and stumps with just enough white stuff so that the faithful can glide delicately downhill. They’re safe as long as nobody gets crazy and starts carving deep turns along the way.

While the snowless fall threatens to make the critical holiday tourist season a bust in the high country, it’s even worse news for farmers and ranchers. 

The snowpack is their water supply, and a creeping sense of doom is spreading across the region as they watch what looks like another year of severe drought unfolding in real time.

Cattle herds are at a 70-year low as producers have reduced their stock in the face of dry pastures and exorbitant costs for feed.

An estimated 90% of the water in the upper Colorado River basin is used for cattle production.

No water, no beef. 

It’s all led to record-high prices for meat at the supermarkets that are expected to worsen in the coming year. 

That means regular old ground chuck will likely be $10 a pound in 2026 and a Dickensian Christmas roast beef will be the stuff of fiction for all but the vulgar billionaire class.

The truly amazing thing about this is that it seems to be coming as a surprise to so many of us.

Along with bigger hurricanes, rising sea levels and more frequent wildfires, water shortages and drought-induced price increases on basic commodities were forecast decades ago by scientists and economists looking at climate change data.

Even Ronald Reagan saw it coming.

Now, nobody would confuse the Gipper with an actual climate activist, but in the 1980s he challenged the attitudes of business leaders who said the cost of addressing climate change was too great. He openly argued that the failure to act would be far more damaging to the world economy.

His successor, George H.W. Bush, continued to rally activists in Congress in an attempt to position the U.S. as the world’s leader in efforts to mitigate climate change.

But we all know what happened next.

The oil and gas industry, using Big Tobacco’s deadly disinformation campaign as a template, poured billions into efforts to undermine the work of scientists to save the planet from the worst impacts of climate change.

A U.S. Senate review of oil industry documents last year unearthed a statement published by Exxon in 1979 saying continuing “fossil fuel consumption (at the level at that time) will cause dramatic environmental effects before the year 2050.”

It also found evidence that the industry was warned of the impending catastrophe as far back as 1959.

They knew exactly what they were doing. 

But instead of acting on that information, the industry cynically spent billions on marketing and lobbying campaigns to convince gullible lawmakers and voters that the mountains of scientific data were unreliable. 

Greedy politicians rejoiced, raked in campaign contributions and ran on the big lies.

And here we are, bickering about who’s responsible for soaring food prices and chanting, “Drill, baby, drill.”

So, as the hamburger is increasingly out of reach for ordinary Americans, it’s easy to see why the protein powder industry is going absolutely nuts.

The global value of the protein powder market was $24.6 billion last year. It’s forecast to reach $46.2 billion by 2034.

Coincidence? Hmmm, I think not.

So, go ahead. Watch “Pluribus” and then swirl the stuff into your morning smoothie.

I dare you.


Diane Carman is a Denver communications consultant.


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Type of Story: Opinion

Advocates for ideas and draws conclusions based on the author/producer’s interpretation of facts and data.

Diane has been a contributor to the Colorado Sun since 2019. She has been a reporter, editor and columnist at the Denver Post, the Cleveland Plain Dealer, the Oregonian, the Oregon Journal and the Wisconsin State Journal. She was born in Kansas,...