Dr. Mark Gladwin to Discuss Climate Health Impacts at ACES Event

Have you ever stopped to wonder how the air you breathe in Aspen this summer might be quietly rewriting your body’s history? It’s a question that hangs heavy in the thin mountain air, especially when the smoke from distant fires settles into the valleys or the ticks begin their slow, persistent climb up the elevations. This isn’t just about whether you’ll need a jacket in July; it’s about the microscopic invaders and invisible toxins that are moving north, driven by the very heat waves that make our Western Slope summers feel increasingly tropical.

On July 2, the Aspen Center for Environmental Studies (ACES) invites locals to Paepcke Auditorium to unpack these shifting realities. From 6 to 7 p.m., Dr. Mark Gladwin, dean of the University of Maryland School of Medicine and vice president of Medical Affairs, will stand before the community to discuss the worsening health impacts of human-driven climate change. It’s a timely gathering, one that moves beyond the abstract concept of "global warming" to look at the specific, tangible threats pressing against our doorstep.

Gladwin isn’t just talking about rising thermometers. He’s talking about the "four horsemen of the apocalypse," borrowing from the Book of Revelation to describe the red horse of war and the concept of heat and fire. As temperatures climb, so does mortality among heat-vulnerable populations, a trend already visible in the Mountain West. But the heat is only the beginning. The real story lies in what the heat unlocks.

Consider the wildfires that have become a seasonal rhythm rather than an anomaly. When forests burn, they don’t just release ash; they release a complex cocktail of volatilized organic compounds, especially when structures and high heat join the mix. "We have no idea the impact of those compounds on human health," Gladwin noted, yet the clinical evidence is stark. Smoke and fire lead to a highly significant increase in cardiovascular and pulmonary events, alongside a chronic reduction in lung function. You can feel it in the chest tightness that lingers long after the smoke has cleared from the sky.

Then there are the vectors. Ticks, those tiny architects of disease, are expanding their territory into higher elevations across Colorado. This summer saw a record-breaking season for ticks in the U.S., and they are bringing Lyme disease and Colorado tick fever with them. Droughts and flooding, the twin engines of worsening weather shifts, further complicate the picture. Flooding, in particular, introduces bacteria directly linked to dramatic increases in related health complications.

Gladwin sees this lecture as more than a one-off talk; he hopes it marks the start of a partnership between ACES and the University of Maryland. The university brings the science funding, but ACES offers the policy and educational experience that pure research often lacks. It’s an ideal blend of East Coast rigor and West Coast outreach, designed to translate data into understanding for people who live here.

If you look closely at the changing landscape, you’ll see the health impacts woven into the ecosystem itself. The air feels different, heavier with particulate matter. The ticks are more numerous, more aggressive. The heat lingers longer into the evening, demanding more from our bodies. As Gladwin prepares to speak, the question isn’t just what the data says, but how we choose to respond to the warming, the burning, and the spreading disease.

The event takes place in Paepcke Auditorium, where the acoustics will carry Gladwin’s words into the quiet of the evening. Outside, the sun will set over the Elk Mountains, casting long shadows that hint at the day’s accumulated heat, while the air, thick with the scent of pine and distant smoke, waits for the next shift in the wind.