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The hydrologic losses due to net evaporation in the Aral Sea have interesting analogs in the interior-drainage basins of the American West. Each of the three places discussed here – the Salton Sea, Owens Lake, and Mono Lake – has its own unique historical and geographic circumstances, but the story of each place has certain parallels to the Aral Sea disaster. Each place experienced dramatic water losses during much of the 20th century, but the emergence of environmental science and law in recent decades has caused significant policy changes. The Salton Sea is still declining, and modest efforts by state and federal agencies to halt the decline are inadequate. A proposal to build dikes to save part of the water body and convert the rest to salt evaporation ponds cited the Aral Sea as a model for the Salton Sea's future. The dry Owens Lake bed yields windblown dust that exceeds the Clean Air standard for fine particulate matter (PM 10), so Los Angeles is now required to release additional water back into the basin to create more shallow wetlands. In Mono Lake, a negotiated settlement has reversed the water loss while protecting vital interests of all parties, and a substantial ecological restoration plan is being implemented. The history of the American analogs to the Aral Sea, especially the success story of Mono Lake, may indicate potential pathways to progress in reducing problems caused by large-scale water diversion.

In this chapter, the title theme of “Disaster by Design” is explored and justified. Even from early times, the Aral Region was subject to alterations of natural conditions due to human intervention, often deliberate and designed. After the final conquest by Russia, the region became a fixed colony as part of the Soviet Union, ripe for exploitation characteristic of the Soviet approach to nature broadly and to stigmatized areas specifically. The Aral region was selected for irrigated cotton and other cultivation even though the consequences for desiccation of the sea, desertification, and salinization were understood. The decision was so calculated that even a cost–benefit analysis was offered to show that the Aral fishery was worth but a fraction of the cotton potential. The destruction of the region was made possible by a Soviet system of central planning and peripheral control. The brief glimmer of hope for the region evidenced during glasnost was the only moment where the Aral's fate was not sealed. The outcome is a model of ecological disaster by design, an environmental injustice, and an indication of the abusive nature of authoritarian power.

Central Asian nations all gained their independence from the former Soviet Union in 1991. Unfortunately, with their independence, they also inherited many environmental problems. By far, the most pervasive issue is the shrinking of the Aral Sea. The enormity of the environmental crisis of the Aral Sea has been attested by environmentalists both in Central Asia and in other parts of the world. In this chapter, the broad scope of the disaster is set forth along with its principle causes. An overview of the geography and water supply in the region is given. And the daunting challenge of cross boundary impact and thus need for multinational cooperation is discussed. The challenge in the region today is twofold. First, it must address the Aral Sea disaster. And second, it must create the conditions to sustainably manage transboundary water resources to head off new catastrophe.

Intensive agricultural production in the countries of the Aral Sea Basin has resulted in undesirable ecological and social consequences, including the drying of the Aral Sea. Water has become scarce due to a score of internal and external factors including the growing demand for water resources by the upstream countries, expansion of the irrigated areas to ease food insecurity, and the poor condition of irrigation and drainage networks. To cope with environmental consequences and regional water challenges, it is vital to look for pathways of improved integrated water resource management, higher water use efficiencies, and reducing overall water use.

A combination of value chain and water footprint analyses of the dominant crop, cotton, was applied to assess water use in different sectors of the Uzbekistan economy and to seek water saving and improved water management and efficiency options.

The findings show that reduction in water use could be achieved by diversifying the economy and moving from water intensive agricultural production to less water consuming industrial sectors by introducing water saving irrigation technologies and by raising awareness of the population about the real value of water.

The combined findings of the economic based value chain analysis and ecologically oriented water footprint analysis gave an added value for better informed decision-making to reach land, water, and ecosystem sustainability and to contribute to the Millennium Development Goals of eradicating poverty and hunger and achieving food and water security.

Songkhla Lake is the largest lake in Thailand along the Bay of Thailand, situated at latitude 7°08′ and 7°50′ north and longitude 100°07′ and 100°37′ east (Fig. 4.1). The lake covers an area of approximately 1,042km², and consists of four interconnected lake ecosystems (Ratanachai & Sutiwipakorn, 2005): Thale Noi (approximately 27km²), Thale Luang (approximately 473km²), Thale Sap (approximately 360km²), and Thale Sap Songkhla (approximately 182km²).

South Asia, home to one-fifth of humanity, perennially has been a disaster-prone region. In 2007, for instance, the Centre for Research on the Epidemiology of Disasters (CRED) reported that out of the top five countries in the world hit hardest by natural disasters, the first two were Bangladesh and India, while Pakistan occupied the fourth position (CRED Crunch, 2008). This was not an exceptional year but generally has been the trend, which highlights the comparative vulnerability of the region to disasters. Two-thirds of the disasters the region experiences are climate related and there have been phenomenal increases in their frequency, severity, and unpredictability in recent times. The severest impacts have been in terms of sea-level rise leading to submergence of low-lying coastal areas and depletion of Himalayan glaciers, threatening the perennial rivers that sustain the food, water, energy, and environmental security of the region. Climate change is surely creating grounds for newer and more severe risks of disasters in the region in the coming years.

The illegalisation of solidarities towards migrants with irregular status provides critical insights into the limits that EU governments set to the free movement, speech, and action of their citizens and their consequences. Here, the author outlines why and how, in a scenario of illegalisation, solidarities must come to terms with inherent contradictions, because the very nature of these solidarities, in terms of who can perform them, may reproduce specific dynamics of structural inequalities. Particularly questioning who rescues, and who can rescue, and who cannot, implies the acknowledgement that solidarities, and visible resistance, are not always democratic, but instruments of the privileged that reproduce social stratification. By critically engaging in the development of activist criminology, the author argues that the democratisation of solidarities would entail that all individuals have the same possibilities and incur the same risks if confronted with a scenario of illegalisation. But such democratisation is a chimera, meaning that there are social hierarchies of who is allowed to rescue, and who would have too much to lose. This also suggests relevant implications for criminologists who choose not to divorce from a commitment to solidarity activism. In fact, activist criminologists often work ‘at a distance’, dispose of continued access to valuable resources and networks, and make a career based on their activist work. These elements of privilege inevitably provide them with disproportionate power in activist spaces, whose critical acknowledgement is paramount and must be complemented with radical action to progressively work towards a deconstruction of their own incongruencies.

Chilika Lagoon is the largest brackishwater lagoon in the Indian subcontinent, situated at latitude 19°28′ and 19°54′ north and longitude 85°05′ and 85°38′ east (Fig. 2.1). The lagoon extends from the southwest corner of Puri and Khurdra districts to the adjoining Ganjam district of Orissa state. The pear-shaped lagoon is around 64.3km long and its width varies from 18to 5km. It is connected to the sea through irregular water channels with several small sandy and usually ephemeral islands (CDA, 2008). The average lagoon area is 1,055km² which increases to 1,165km² during the rainy season and shrinks to 906km² during the summer season. Chilika Lagoon becomes less saline during the rainy season due to flood waters from 52 rivers and rivulets. It becomes more saline during the dry season as the supply of flood water is cut off when the south wind begins to blow and saline waters enter from the Bay of Bengal at high (Patro, 2001). The lagoon has three hydrologic subsystems (Mahanadi delta, western catchments, and the Bay of Bengal) influencing the hydrological regimes as shown in Fig. 2.1. The total inflow of freshwater from the Mahanadi delta has been estimated to be 4,912 million cubic meter, accounting for 80 percent of the total water flow. The maximum discharge of 3,182 million cubic meter comes from Makara River, followed by Bhargavi River (1,108 million cubic meter) and Luna River (428 million cubic meter) (CDA, 2008). Meanwhile, the western catchments account for 20 percent of the total fresh water flow.

The Pacific Island countries are culturally diverse, politically challenging, extremely vulnerable to climate change and natural disaster impacts, and financially heavily dependent on aid flows. This chapter examines barriers and opportunities for Green growth (GG) to flourish in a country with a practically non-existent real economy and which is currently under the threat of disappearance under water. It draws on a visiting experience and lessons from the literature and tries to investigate the role of innovation and entrepreneurship as poles of re-birth and local creativity. More particularly, I here discuss why a least developed country such as Kiribati might be the perfect location for dynamics of GG to get born and how, Kiribati, a country under threat and fear, can be transformed into a lighthouse of entrepreneurship which can give boost to the implementation of one of the most advanced energy technologies in the world. I also discuss how, ultimately, a “least developed economy” can secure scientific lessons, which are highly significant for the international knowledge society.