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I see stupid people
And Their Anti-Science Fearmongering Could Cost This State Everything
John R. Grizz Deal/CEO, IX Water
I see stupid people. Not the harmless kind who get lost in the Walmart parking lot, but the ones who descend on public hearings like a flock of caffeinated pigeons, clutching reusable water bottles and muttering dark omens about “produced water” as if it’s the name of a demon summoned from an oilfield hellmouth. These are the people who read three paragraphs of a conspiracy blog and suddenly believe the periodic table is a government psy-op. The sight of a chemistry diagram sends them into full fight-or-flight, usually choosing “rant.”
Meanwhile, outside their fluorescent echo chambers, New Mexico is cooking like a cheap steak in a roadside diner. The aquifers are shrinking faster than political promises, the rivers are fading into memory, and the state’s future is tied to water we no longer have. You would think, in times like these, that people would cling to solutions. Science. Technology. Common sense. But no. That would be too reasonable. Instead, we get a chorus of anti-science naysayers who treat “produced water reuse” like it’s a government plot to poison their houseplants.
Let me clarify one thing, loudly, for the people in the back row who keep clutching their pearls: all water is recycled. Every molecule you’ve ever swallowed has been through a dinosaur’s kidneys, a Roman aqueduct, a medieval cesspit, a cow pasture, and probably the wrong end of a thousand septic tanks. Water is the original hitchhiker—it’s been everywhere and inside everything. The only reason it’s remotely drinkable today is because humans treat it. Filter it. Zap it. Scrub it like a crime scene until it’s safe to use again. That’s the entire concept of civilization.
So when we talk about produced water—the salty, gnarly, oilfield byproduct dragged out of the earth like a screaming troll—we’re not talking about something magical or unknowable. We’re talking about water that can be treated. In fact, national labs, universities, and more scientists than you can fit in the Lea County Event Center have demonstrated that produced water can be cleaned to meet whatever standard we choose. Agriculture? Yes. Industrial processes? Absolutely. Environmental restoration? It’s already been done elsewhere.
But in New Mexico, some folks would rather shove their heads deep into the desert sand and declare that the sky is falling. They march into hearings waving fear like a flag, shouting that reuse will turn the whole state into a chemical wasteland. Never mind that they have no evidence. Never mind that the technology already exists. Never mind that we are running out of water. Their crusade has nothing to do with science or safety. It is pure, uncut politics.
Let’s dispense with the polite fiction: The opposition isn’t about protecting the environment—it’s about attacking the oil and gas industry at any cost. Even if that cost is the future of New Mexico.
These folks would rather keep billions of gallons of reusable water buried in deep injection wells—gone forever—than admit that something good could come from an industry they’ve decided is irredeemably evil. They hate oil and gas so much they’re willing to let the state run dry to prove a point. That isn’t activism. That’s ideological fanaticism dressed up Patagonia fleece jackets.
The Water Quality Control Commission, bowing to this theater, has ruled that treated produced water cannot be used for any purpose outside the oilfield. Not for crops. Not for manufacturing. Not for environmental restoration. Not for anything. Even if the water meets the quality standards. Even if it exceeds them. Even if it’s cleaner than what flows down the Rio Grande on a good day.
Think about the staggering absurdity of that:
We live in a desert.
We are in a megadrought.
We have the technology to recycle billions of gallons.
And regulators have said, “No thanks, we’d rather inject it into oblivion.”
This is the kind of logic that should come with a surgeon general’s warning. Weapons-grade stupidity.
If we keep going down this path, New Mexico will be importing water the way we import avocados—expensively, reluctantly, and with endless political bickering. Maybe we can get a bulk discount from Wyoming. Or build a 600-mile pipeline from somewhere that still believes in science. California, perhaps—though by the time their permitting process is complete, we’ll all be speaking in dust.
Here’s the truth nobody on the anti-science circuit wants to admit:
If we treated and reused just a fraction of the produced water already coming out of New Mexico’s oilfields, the entire state would have a new, reliable, drought-resistant water supply.
A safety net. A backup plan. A path to survival.
But instead, we get fearmongering. Magical thinking. Ideology dressed in hemp clothing. A refusal to acknowledge that water doesn’t care about your politics, your theories, or your favorite Facebook group.
So yes, I see stupid people. They’re fighting technology that works. They’re rejecting solutions supported by scientists, engineers, and every sober water expert in the Southwest. They’re shouting down the very thing that could keep New Mexico alive for the next century.
And while they panic about imaginary dangers, the real danger creeps closer:
A dry, cracked, empty future.
We can clean this water.
We can reuse this water.
We can save this state.
But only if we stop letting the stupid people set the rules.
John R Grizz Deal is the CEO of IX Water. IX Water is a spinout from Los Alamos National Laboratory, New Mexico Tech, the University of Texas, and the National Aeronautics and Space Administration.
