As November 2025 draws to a close, the Pacific Rim and Southeast Asia have been battered by a relentless series of natural disasters, reigniting urgent conversations about preparedness, climate change, and the fragile infrastructure underpinning early warning systems. From the windswept coasts of Oregon to the flood-ravaged streets of southern Thailand, communities are grappling with the aftermath of earthquakes, tsunamis, and catastrophic flooding—all against a backdrop of shifting federal priorities and mounting public scrutiny.
In Oregon, residents received a sliver of reassurance amid uncertainty: tsunami warnings will continue, at least for now, despite the loss of a critical federal grant. According to Astorian, the Alaska Earthquake Center—responsible for operating 250 seismic stations across Alaska—decided to shoulder the costs of relaying seismic data to the federal Tsunami Warning Centers after the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) cut its $300,000 annual grant in fiscal year 2024. This data is vital for Pacific coast states like Oregon, where seconds can mean the difference between life and death in the event of a tsunami.
“Seconds matter during a tsunami, and coastal communities can have as little as 20 minutes to evacuate and prepare for an incoming wave,” U.S. Senator Maria Cantwell wrote to NOAA’s administrator on November 19. “Any delay in the data could erode critical time to get people out of harm’s way.” Her plea underscores the anxiety gripping local leaders and emergency planners, who remember all too well the devastation wrought by tsunamis in recent memory. The 2011 Great Tohoku earthquake and tsunami in Japan killed nearly 20,000 people, with waves reaching as far as Oregon and causing significant damage, though miraculously sparing lives there.
The Alaska Earthquake Center, as reported by spokesperson Elisabeth Nadin, will continue to send real-time data to the Tsunami Warning Centers, but it’s a partial victory at best. The center cannot afford to maintain nine remote seismic stations previously covered by federal funds—stations that University of Washington seismologist Harold Tobin describes as “particularly important” because they’re located in some of the most seismically active (and hard-to-reach) regions. “It’s certainly one of the most remote areas that exist. But it also is a place where there’s a lot of earthquakes and a lot of underwater earthquakes,” Tobin explained to Astorian. “It is a region that it’s absurd to not be monitoring closely from the perspective of tsunami warnings.”
For now, those nine stations will keep transmitting data until they fail, either from natural events or technical malfunctions. The Alaska Earthquake Center’s decision to backfill the funding gap is a stopgap measure, not a solution. NOAA, for its part, emphasized that it “does not rely on any single source of information for its alerts,” with spokesperson Kim Doster noting the Alaska Earthquake Center is “one of many partners” in the nation’s seismic monitoring network. Still, the loss of redundancy in remote, high-risk areas has left some experts and local officials uneasy.
Meanwhile, the Pacific Rim’s seismic volatility has shown no signs of letting up. On November 27, a magnitude 5.0 earthquake struck Burgos, Ilocos Norte, in the Philippines, according to the Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology (Phivolcs). The quake, located just seven kilometers northwest of Burgos at a depth of 22 kilometers, prompted government workers to evacuate buildings as a precaution. Further south, a magnitude 6.6 earthquake rattled Simeulue Island off the coast of Sumatra, Indonesia, at nearly the same time. The United States Geological Survey (USGS) reported no immediate tsunami warning or major damage, but the event nevertheless heightened nerves in a region where memories of the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami—and its staggering toll—remain painfully fresh.
Earthquakes weren’t the only threat this November. In Southeast Asia, extreme weather delivered a one-two punch, with monsoon rains and flooding causing devastation across Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia. According to Global and Bangkok Post, southern Thailand experienced its worst flooding in a decade, with water levels reaching three meters (9.8 feet) in Songkhla province and at least 145 people losing their lives. Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul, visiting evacuees in the hard-hit Hat Yai district, offered an apology: “I really have to apologize to them for letting this happen during the time I am in government.” He promised a two-week cleanup and announced relief measures, including compensation of up to two million baht (about $62,000) for households that lost family members.
In Indonesia’s Sumatra, the story was no less grim. Flooding and landslides killed at least 174 people, with nearly 80 more missing as of late November, according to BBC. Rescuers struggled to reach isolated villages, and in some areas, hospital morgues were so overwhelmed that bodies had to be stored in refrigerated trucks. Malaysia’s northern Perlis state also suffered, with two deaths reported after heavy rains submerged entire neighborhoods.
The human toll was matched by economic devastation. Rachane Remsringam, a shop owner in Thailand, told Bangkok Post that his general goods store, Madam Yong, was looted and vandalized in the chaos following the floods, resulting in hundreds of thousands of dollars in losses. The public, meanwhile, has grown increasingly critical of the Thai government’s response, with two local officials suspended for alleged failures and an opposition MP charging that the administration “wrongly estimated the situation” and made “errors in handling the flood crisis.”
Scientists and meteorologists point to climate change as a key driver behind the intensifying storms and flooding. The annual monsoon season, typically running from June to September, has become more unpredictable, with heavier rainfall, flash flooding, and stronger wind gusts. Warmer air holds more moisture, leading to more intense rain events, while rising ocean temperatures can turbocharge storm systems. The 2025 season, exacerbated by a tropical storm, saw death tolls in Indonesia and Thailand among the highest in recent years.
These cascading crises have exposed the vulnerabilities of disaster preparedness systems across the region. In Oregon, the loss of federal funding for seismic monitoring has triggered a scramble to preserve the integrity of tsunami warnings. In Southeast Asia, overwhelmed emergency services and delayed government responses have left survivors questioning whether enough is being done to anticipate and mitigate such disasters.
Yet amid the anxiety and devastation, communities have shown remarkable resilience. In Thailand and Indonesia, massive cleanup efforts are underway, and governments have rolled out relief measures and compensation for affected families. In Oregon, despite budget woes, the Alaska Earthquake Center’s commitment to keep the warning system running—at least for now—offers a measure of comfort to those living in the shadow of the Pacific’s restless tectonic plates.
While the storms may have passed and the earth may have quieted, the challenges of rebuilding, adapting, and preparing for the next disaster remain ever-present. The events of November 2025 serve as a sobering reminder of nature’s power and the fragile safety nets that stand between calm and catastrophe.