Climate change risks to water security: Exploring the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security

This article explores the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security and proposes a three-node nexus conceptual framework for understanding the same. Water is an essential compound and/or molecule without which there will be no organic life on planet Earth. Throughout the ages, water has occupied a central place within successive human civilizations. For example, ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans considered water to be sacred and even had specific gods associated with water including among others Hapi, Poseidon, and Neptune, respectively. Today, Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism – the three largest organized religions of the world – consider water to be vital for both the physical and spiritual well-being of the human being. Even modern states and their governments consider water critical for their own security as well as that of the international community (MacAlister et al., 2023). For example, in the United States, water is considered one of the nation's critical infrastructure and key resources without which the country's homeland security would be in serious jeopardy (The White House, 2013; Asaka, 2023). Kenya also recently added water to its list of critical infrastructure and created a water police unit (WPU) in charge of safeguarding the same (Koigi, 2023).

Felbab-Brown describes two broad schools of thought on water access and use, namely, water as a human right and water as a commodity (Felbab-Brown, 2017b). The human right school holds that water is a ‘basic human right, and often opposes the pricing of water, particularly increases in prices’ (Felbab-Brown, 2017b, p. 1). While the commodity school views ‘water as a commodity to which value needs to be assigned – contending that, like electricity, it needs to be priced properly to maintain its sustainability and efficient use’ (Felbab-Brown, 2017b, pp. 1–2). But Felbab-Brown also points out that hybrid positions that incorporate aspects of the two schools of thought do exist (Felbab-Brown, 2017b). For instance, she notes that ‘Some water experts, for example, grant that access to water is a basic human right that should not be withheld from anyone. But they also maintain that having water brought from its source, treated for human consumption, and delivered to one's home is not a basic human right, and hence that it is appropriate to pay for the treatment and delivery of water’ (Felbab-Brown, 2017b, p. 2).

The purpose of this study is threefold: (i) to explore existing knowledge on the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security; (ii) to conceptualize the interplay and contribute toward a nuanced understanding of the same; and (iii) to apply the ‘new’ conceptual framework to real-world case studies in climate change vulnerable contexts. To explore and conceptualize the interplay, the study relied on a close reading of existing literature on the same. The resultant conceptual framework was then applied to case studies of Kenya and Mexico. The study found that existing literature identifies climate change and water theft as key drivers of water (in)security. The study also found that the literature predominantly frames the interplay as a two-node nexus involving either climate change and water (in)security or water theft and water (in)security. Cognizant of climate change's contribution to both water theft and water scarcity, this article argues that the current knowledge on the interplay is not nuanced and proposes a three-node nexus conceptual framework to offer a nuanced understanding of the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security.

This article is organized into four main sections including the introduction in Section 1. Section 2 describes the study methods. Section 3 reviews existing literature on the interplay, presents a three-node nexus conceptual framework for understanding the interplay, and applies the framework to case studies of Kenya and Mexico. Finally, Section 4 presents the conclusion and recommendations for future policy and research.

This study adopted a two-phase exploratory sequential mixed methods design (Creswell & Creswell, 2023). The first phase focused on the first and second purposes of the study. This phase involved a review of existing literature to explore and conceptualize the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security. The reviewed literature was limited to scholarly publications including journal articles, book chapters, and think-tank reports.

The second phase focused on the third purpose of the study. This phase involved the application of the ‘new’ three-node nexus conceptual framework to case studies of Kenya and Mexico. The case studies involved both document review (Bowen, 2009) and descriptive statistical analysis (Agreti & Finlay, 1997). Descriptive statistical analysis was aided by Excel. Kenya and Mexico were purposely selected for inclusion in the study for at least three reasons as follows. First, both countries have a water scarcity problem. Second, both countries experience water theft. Third, both countries are significantly vulnerable to climate change impacts.

There is no single universally agreed upon definition of climate change. For instance, both the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) define climate change differently. As Pielke (2004) argues correctly, this lack of definitional coherence contributes to the endless politicized debate that has characterized the issue of climate change over the past several decades. One of the key issues at the heart of the debate is the question of whether climate change is a purely natural or human-made phenomenon. In this article, we consider climate change to be a consequence of both natural and anthropogenic factors with the latter playing a major role in shaping current climate change trends (IPCC, 2022). Thus, climate change refers to natural or human activity induced “change in the state of the climate that can be identified (e.g., by using statistical tests) by changes in the mean and/or the variability of its properties and that persists for an extended period, typically decades or longer” (IPCC, 2012, p. 557). mentioned.

Controversy or not, climate change is arguably one of ‘humanity's greatest contemporary challenges’ (Uexkull & Buhaug, 2021, p. 3). Because of its well-documented impacts on natural and human systems, climate change is no longer simply an environmental issue. Today, climate change is also a security concern (Barnett & Adger, 2007; Adger et al., 2014). Climate-security nexus literature has witnessed significant growth over the past two decades, in part, due to the increased recognition of climate change as a security issue (Asaka, 2023). On one hand, the literature establishes that climate change is a security threat multiplier (The CNA Corporation, 2007; Uexkull & Buhaug, 2021). On the other hand, a growing body of maladaptation literature cautions that climate change adaptation and mitigation initiatives have the potential to produce security challenges (Dabelko et al., 2013; IPCC, 2022; Asaka, 2023).

Vulnerability is an important concept for understanding the security implications of climate change (Adger, 2006). Vulnerability refers to ‘the propensity or predisposition to be adversely affected’ (Ayanlade et al., 2023, p. 2). With regards to climate change, ‘vulnerability encompasses a variety of concepts and elements, including sensitivity or susceptibility to harm and lack of capacity to cope and adapt. Such factors include dimensions of exposure, such as the presence of people, livelihoods, species or ecosystems, infrastructure, or economic, social, and cultural assets in places and settings that could be adversely affected’ (Ibid). The sixth assessment report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) noted, in part, that vulnerability to climate change varies significantly within and between regions and is ‘driven by patterns of intersecting socioeconomic development, unsustainable ocean and land use, inequity, marginalization, historical and ongoing patterns of inequity such as colonialism, and governance’ (IPCC, 2022, p. 12).

Water is increasingly being securitized due to its centrality to the stability and proper functioning of both natural and human systems (Bogardi et al., 2016; Nathan & Fischhendler, 2016; Shah, 2021). However, water security remains a contested concept, which at its core denotes a condition that is tenable when there is enough and safe water to sustainably meet the basic water needs of everyone without jeopardizing essential natural and human systems (Pahl-Wostl et al., 2016b). Water security literature identifies at least five dimensions of water security including availability (i.e., abundance or scarcity), quality, accessibility, and stability (Pahl-Wostl et al., 2016a; Stringer et al., 2021). This article is purposely focused on the availability dimension.

Securing water entails governance of water resources at scale and in such ways as to ensure an adequate, accessible, affordable, and sustainable supply of water of acceptable quality. Globally, water insecurity has reached a crisis level. A recent global study report noted that ‘In 2020, 6.13 billion people were living in critically water-insecure or water-insecure countries, including 4.31 billion people in the Asia-Pacific region, 1.34 billion in Africa, 415 million in the Americas, and almost a million people in Europe’ (MacAlister et al., 2023, p. 105).

The global water crisis has been blamed on poor water governance (Pahl-Wostl, 2015; Loë & Patterson, 2017). Water governance can be, and is often, understood and/or approached from a variety of perspectives (Araral & Wang, 2013; Loë & Patterson, 2017; Pahl-Wostl, 2017; Ozerol et al., 2018). This article defines water governance as ‘the social function that regulates development and management of water resources and provisions of water services at different levels of society and guiding the resource towards a desirable state and away from an undesirable state’ (Pahl-Wostl, 2015, p. 26). Water governance involves both state and nonstate actors and can take on any of three governance modes, namely, ‘bureaucratic hierarchies, markets, and networks’ (Pahl-Wostl, 2009, p. 358). Moreover, because governance is a social phenomenon, it varies from one socio-political context to another. Thus, as Felbab-Brown correctly points out, regulations governing water use vary significantly across jurisdictions (Felbab-Brown, 2017b). Finally, other drivers of the crisis described in the literature include overuse, wastage, pollution, land use change, population growth, water theft, and climate change (Pahl-Wostl, 2015; Pahl-Wostl et al., 2016a, 2016b; Felbab-Brown, 2017b; White, 2019).

Water theft and water (in)security are mutually reinforcing. Water theft contributes to water scarcity ‘and thus to rationing, increased prices, and potentially insufficient availability’ (Felbab-Brown, 2017b, p. 9). Felbab-Brown (2017a) noted that,

Both climate change and water theft are drivers of water scarcity. The previous section also revealed that water theft and water scarcity are mutually reinforcing. Considering that climate change drives water scarcity and affects state/institutional capacity to address the same, this article argues that climate change is also an indirect driver of water theft for two reasons as follows. First, because both climate change and water theft impact water scarcity but only water theft is enabled by water scarcity, the article considers water scarcity as a pathway that links climate change to water theft. Second, through its negative effect on state/institutional capacity, climate change indirectly contributes to water theft, which is enabled by a lack of, or inadequate, state/institutional capacity.

This case study explores the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security in Kenya. The case study is based on a document review of Water Services and Regulatory Board (WASREB) impact reports and relevant laws. Kenya is located on the east African coast and borders the Indian Ocean, Tanzania, Uganda, South Sudan, Ethiopia, and Somalia. The country has a total area of 582,646 km² comprising a water area of 11,230 km² and a land area of 517,416 km² – 80% of which is classified as arid and semi-arid (JICA, 2013). The country has a devolved system of government consisting of a national government and 47 semi-autonomous county governments (GOK, 2010a). According to the most recent national census data, the country's population stands at about 47.6 million people (KNBS, 2019).

Kenya is considered a water-scarce country (GOK, 2010b; Mwihaki, 2018; Wakhungu, 2019). Water scarcity in the country is attributable to a variety of factors including but not limited to geography, climate, wastage, overuse, pollution, population growth, poor governance, marginalization, and illegal water connections. The foregoing reality notwithstanding, the country's Constitution guarantees everyone a right to a ‘clean and safe water in adequate quantities’ (GOK, 2010a). The Kenyan government has over the years put in place various measures including, but not limited to, laws/regulations and institutions aimed at progressively realizing the human right to water in the country (Loo, 2011; Mutschinski & Coles, 2021). This case study begins by describing the framework of relevant laws and institutions.

As is customary with all countries, Kenya has a framework of laws and institutions that govern various aspects of its jurisdiction (Sambu & Tarhule, 2013). Some of these laws and institutions have a bearing on climate change, water theft, and water (in)security and are discussed below as follows:

First, the Constitution of Kenya. This is the supreme law of the land in Kenya. Article 43(1)(d) provides that ‘every person has the right to clean and safe water in adequate quantities’ (GOK, 2010a, p. 24). Article 56 (e) provides that ‘The State shall put in place affirmative action programmes, to ensure that minorities and marginalised groups… have reasonable access to water, health services and infrastructure’ (GOK, 2010a, p. 29). The Constitution also establishes, among other things, an equalization fund, which the national government shall use ‘to provide basic services including water, roads, health facilities and electricity to marginalized areas to the extent necessary to bring the quality of those services in those areas to the level generally enjoyed by the rest of the nation, so far as possible’ (GOK, 2010a, p. 87).

Second, the Water Act, 2016 (No. 43 of 2016). This law guides ‘the regulation, management and development of water resources, water and sewerage services; and for other connected purposes’ in line with Kenya's Constitution (GOK, 2016c, p. 1026). The law establishes several institutions including: (i) the Water Resources Authority charged with, among other things, regulating ‘the management and use of water resources’ (GOK, 2016c, p. 1035), (ii) National Water Harvesting and Storage Authority to, among other things, develop, ‘maintain and manage national public water works infrastructure for water resources storage’ and flood control (GOK, 2016c, p. 1044), (iii) WASREB charged with, among other things, setting license conditions and accrediting water services providers (WSPs), maintaining a national database and information system on water services, and maintaining a public and freely available register of licensed WSPs (GOK, 2016c), and (iv) Water Sector Trust Fund – a water sector financing institution – to be managed by a Board of Trustees charged with, among other things, developing incentive programs for water resources management including climate change adaptation and mitigation (GOK, 2016c).

While this law does not define nor explicitly reference water theft, article 38 describes three scenarios of unauthorized construction and use of water works that amount to an offence including: (a) a nonpermit holder constructing or employing water works for a purpose that requires a water permit, (b) a permit holder constructing or employing water works in contravention of conditions of his/her water permit, and (c) a permit holder taking water from any water resource ‘by means of any works not authorized by the permit or before the whole of the works authorized by the permit has been certified, in accordance with the conditions of the permit’ (GOK, 2016c, p. 1047).

Third, the Climate Change Act, 2016 (No. 11 of 2016). This law guides ‘the development, management, implementation and regulation of mechanisms to enhance climate change resilience and low carbon development for the sustainable development of Kenya’ (GOK, 2016a, pp. C17A-6). The law establishes a National Climate Change Council, Climate Change Directorate, and gives provision for the formulation of a National Climate Change Action Plan. The law also establishes Climate Change Fund as a financing mechanism for climate action within the country.

Fourth, the National Drought Management Authority Act (No. 4 of 2016). With 80% of its landmass classified as arid and sem-arid lands (ASALs), Kenya is prone to recurrent droughts that contribute to water scarcity. This law establishes the National Drought Management Authority (NDMA), which is responsible for the coordination of all matters relating to drought management in the country including the implementation of drought management policies and programs (GOK, 2016b).

Fifth, the Environmental Management and Coordination Act, of 1999 (No. 8 of 1999) as amended by the Environmental Management and Coordination (Amendment) Act, of 2015 (No. 5 of 2015). This law establishes key environmental management institutions including the National Environmental Management Authority (NEMA), National Environment Tribunal (NET), and County Environment Committees (to be constituted by County Governors). The law also provides for the formulation of national and county environment action plans ‘to co-ordinate and harmonize the environmental policies, plans, programmes and decisions of the national and county governments’ (GOK, 2015, p. 64).

Sixth, the Sustainable Waste Management Act, 2022 (No. 31 of 2022). This law aims to, among other things, ‘reduce air, land, freshwater and marine pollution’ (GOK, 2022, p. 8). It provides for the establishment of a Waste Management Council charged with, among other things, enhancing ‘inclusive inter-governmental coordination for sustainable waste management’ (GOK, 2022, p. 11).

Finally, the Penal Code (Chapter 63, Revised 2012). This law establishes a code of criminal law in Kenya (GOK, 2012). Water is referenced 15 times in the penal code including in chapter xvii and articles 191, 248, 339, and 343. However, the penal code makes no explicit mention of water theft. Although article 343, in part, provides that,

Kenya's national climate change response strategy notes, in part, that, ‘With its natural endowment of renewable freshwater of only 21 billion cubic meters (BCM) which amounts to 647 cubic meters (m³) per capita per annum under normal circumstances, Kenya is classified as a water scarce country’ (GOK, 2010b, p. 33). Water Act of 2016 puts both public and for-profit private WSPs in charge of water services provision across the country at a reasonable price (WASREB, 2023). In other words, the Kenyan government has liberalized the country's water services provision sector and adopted a public–private-–partnership (PPP) model in its quest to progressively realize the aspirational goal set forth in the country's constitution with regard to the human right to water and sanitation (K'Akumu, 2006; Boakye-Ansah et al., 2019). Table 1 describes five types of WSPs that are recognized by WASREB.

However, the PPP model is yet to live up to its billing in most instances due to factors including but not limited to inadequate capacity, corruption, and population growth (K'Akumu, 2007; Bellaubi & Boehm, 2018; Sarkar, 2019). Notably, the commoditization of water in the country has arguably led to a significant rise in the illicit clean water economy, in part, to cater for the short fall in water services provision experienced in most, if not all, areas currently served by a WSP. The illicit clean water economy is national in scope and invariably run by clandestine entities known colloquially in Kenya as water cartels or simply cartels. These cartels range from amorphous informal groupings to well-organized ones (Boakye-Ansah et al., 2019). Whenever cartels source water from illegal connections, the water cannot be accounted for. Moreover, even in cases where cartels get water through legal connections, rampant corruption may result in some or all of the water not being paid for, making it impossible to account for such water (Asaka & Oluoko-Odingo, 2023; Muoki, 2023). Table 2 shows the situation of water and sanitation in the country.

Unaccounted for water (UfW), also known as nonrevenue water (NRW) (Ndirangu et al., 2013), refers to ‘the difference between the amount of water put into the distribution system and the amount of water billed/unbilled as authorized consumption’ (WASREB, 2022, p. 33). UfW is a significant problem in Kenya as the following excerpt from the latest WASREB impact report confirms.

In Kenya, UfW is exemplified in ‘leakage from pipes; unauthorized use (illegal connections, unbilled consumers); authorized but unmetered connections; inaccurate master meters, industrial, commercial and domestic water meters; and unusual causes (leakage in reservoirs)’ (WASREB, 2008, p. 12). This case study is purposely focused on UfW that is attributable to unauthorized use and frames the same as water theft.

Several studies have identified water theft as a contributor to water insecurity in Kenya (Wagah et al., 2010; Nzengya, 2015; Sarkar, 2019; Baird & Walters, 2020). The phenomenon of water theft is predominant in urban areas especially slums although not entirely absent in rural settings. For instance, according to Njeru (2012), ‘Police statistics show that in Kibera – Nairobi's largest slum with over one and a half million inhabitants – there are as many as 75 reported incidences of water-related theft daily’. In 2019, the chief executive officer (CEO) of Embu Water and Sanitation Company noted that ‘the company loses almost 40% of the water it supplies to residents through theft by people who divert it illegally or remove meters so they don't pay’ (Githinji, 2019). Furthermore, Kebaso (2022) reported that, ‘The water sector in the country loses an estimated Sh 11billion due to water leakages and theft, while the remaining 50% is costly and inaccessible to ordinary Kenyans’.

Across Kenya, water theft is predominantly, but not entirely, practiced by amorphous water cartels (Boakye-Ansah et al., 2019). Others involved in water theft in the country are ordinary citizens who are forced to steal water because they simply cannot afford to pay for it. Boakye-Ansah et al. (2019) found that high fees associated with water provided by formal WSPs and the desire to continue making money dissuade both residents and cartels from relying on formal provisioning. For example, the CEO of Kakamega County Water and Sanitation Company pointed out that, ‘Jua Kali and Kefinco estates are notorious for water theft cases. The two estates are occupied by many university students who are suspected to be tampering with meters because a recent inspection disclosed that 90% of illegal water connections are in that area’ (Lusigi, 2022, italics added). This goes to show that water theft is not necessarily a preserve of water cartels. However, in terms of scale, the contribution of water cartels to the country's UfW arguably dwarfs that of ordinary citizens engaged in water theft because of the former's level of sophistication and sheer scale of operation.

Since 2015, successive WASREB impact reports have identified climate change as one of the factors contributing to water insecurity in Kenya. For instance, the eighth WASREB impact report noted, in part, that ‘The demand for water services continues to increase, driven by the growing population, urbanization, and climate change. Climate change puts a strain on water availability’ (WASREB, 2015, p. v). The tenth WASREB impact report revealed that, ‘The availability of water continues to diminish owing to climate change’ (WASREB, 2018, p. 64). Furthermore, the report noted that ‘Current projections of climate change create uncertainties with regards to the availability of water resources’ (WASREB, 2018, p. 80). Climate change specifically contributes to water insecurity through ‘prolonged drought or floods. For example, For the year under review, overall production declined mainly due to prolonged drought’ (WASREB, 2019, p. 70 italics added). Climate change also ‘exacerbates many forms of water pollution’ with implications for water quality, availability, accessibility, and stability (WASREB, 2020, p. 82).

Finally, climate change is expected to strain state capacity to provide human security in climate change-vulnerable countries (Adger et al., 2014; IPCC, 2022). Because public utilities currently account for a greater proportion of WSPs in Kenya, climate change's negative effect on state capacity as witnessed during recent droughts in the country will continue to have negative ramifications for water security in much of the country (Hewson & Smith, 2022). In other words, through weather-events such as prolonged, unpredictable, and recurrent droughts and floods, climate change will continue to undercut the capacity of the Kenyan government to provide water security to its citizens. Table 3 shows Kenya's level of vulnerability to climate change relative to other countries in East Africa.

At least four important points can be deduced from the foregoing discussion as follows. First, Kenya is a water-scarce country. Second, climate change and water theft contribute to water scarcity in the country. Third, water theft is driven, in part, by water scarcity. Fourth, climate change indirectly contributes to water theft specifically through its negative impacts on water availability and state/institutional capacity. Evidently, there is a nexus between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security in the Kenyan context.

However, as noted in the conceptual framework section of this article, extant literature predominantly employs a two-node nexus involving either water theft and water (in)security or climate change and water (in)security. This article argues that while such a two-node nexus framework has contributed to knowledge on water (in)security, it is missing a key aspect that is crucial to enhancing the understanding of water (in)security in Kenya and similar contexts. A nuanced understanding provided by the proposed three-node nexus conceptual framework is vital for understanding and addressing climate change, water theft, and water (in)security in Kenya and similar contexts. It also makes it possible to adjust existing interventions, policy or otherwise, to effectively address Kenya's water scarcity challenge made worse by water theft and climate change.

This case study has shown how climate change can contribute to water theft and water (in)security. The interplay between climate change and water theft and its implication for water (in)security is significant, but often missing from most academic analyses or policy considerations because of reliance on a two-node nexus conceptual framework. Therefore, future policy and research should also focus on the indirect impacts of climate change on water security particularly those that reinforce other known drivers of water insecurity such as water theft. Understanding the interplay between climate change and water theft is critical to effectively addressing water insecurity in Kenya and other similar contexts.

This case study explores the climate change and water theft nexus and implications of the same for water (in)security in Mexico. Mexico has long suffered the effects of drug trafficking, organized crime, and corruption (Grayson, 2014; Durán-Martinez, 2018). In the mid-2000s as the kingpin strategy of targeting the heads of organizations fragmented organized crime groups (OCGs), these groups shifted due to profit starvation into a diversity of criminal activities (Jones, 2013; Correa-Cabrera, 2017). Some like the Cartel de Santa Rosa de Lima specialized in oil theft, which came to be known as the slang term for moonshiners in Spanish Huachicol (Jones & Sullivan, 2019). More recently, the diversification of criminal activities has shifted into a new area and a highly legal resource, water. This new criminal trend, which will no doubt increase with climate change-induced droughts, has been termed Aguachicol, a clever play on the Spanish word for water (agua) and the oil theft mafias (Huachicoleros) (Center for the U.S. & Mexico, 2023). Scholars such as Vanda Felbab Brown have described the rise of water theft around the world and in particular in Mexico (Felbab-Brown, 2017b).

Water in Mexico is a national resource as described in the Mexican constitution. The mismanagement and lack of oversight of water in Mexico led former Secretary of the Environment and Natural Resources Víctor Toledo to state that in Mexico, ‘there is an indiscriminate and anti-democratic use of water’ (Mexicanos Contra la Corrupcion y la Impunidad, n.d.). Currently, only 58% of the country has daily access to running water in Mexico, which creates a significant demand for organized crime actors to provide this service often in league with corrupt government officials. Six million people in Mexico have no access to potable water; only 14% of the population receives water 24 h a day (Copeland, 2023). The problem only deepens when one looks at statistics on water management in Mexico. Only 50% of the water collected from drain water receives any form of treatment, 60% of water bodies present some level of contamination, and 40% of the water is lost due to leaks in the municipal distribution system (Villarreal et al., 2022).

Mexico has managed water as a public and national resource since the constitution of 1917 (Dominguez, 2020). During this period, the government created the Comisión Nacional de Irrigación, which would help develop projects to distribute water across the country and the Secretaría de Recursos Hidráulicos (SRH) that would determine the use of water (Ibid). Beyond national administration, the Mexican and US governments also negotiated to resolve water allocation issues. In 1945, both countries ratified the Treaty for the Utilization of the Waters of the Colorado and Tijuana Rivers and of the Rio Grande, establishing water entitlements for both countries (Umoff, 2008). In sum, ‘the treaty obligates Mexico to deliver 350,000 acre-feet of water annually to the United States from the Rio Grande. The two countries divide the waters of the Rio Grande between Fort Quitman, Texas, and the Gulf of Mexico equally’ (Umoff, 2008, p. 75).

Climate change has caused severe droughts in the Rio Grande Valley, which has endangered crops and livestock in both countries and since 1992, Mexico has fallen short three times of sending the water demanded by the 1944 water treaty (Varady et al., 2021). In 2020, Mexico ‘agreed to transfer stored water at Amistad Dam to the U.S., fulfilling its’ obligations under the treaty, but also jeopardizing the water supply of more than one million Mexicans living downstream in Coahuila and Tamaulipas (Ibid). Climate change is only making this situation direr as precipitation models predict a reduction of rain by 15.2% across the country due to climate change (Martínez-Austria & Patiño-Gómez, 2012). Overall, climate change will cause variance in the runoff in basins that depend on the thawing of glaciers that are shrinking due to the rise in global temperatures (Ibid). This variance directly affects Mexico, whose primary water source based on the 1944 water treaty is the Colorado River, which produces most of its water from snow in Colorado's mountains. The compounding effects of climate change in this region and the obligations set by the 1945 water treaty have placed many Mexicans in a dire water situation.

The unequal distribution of rain is also an essential factor to consider, as it burdens some areas of the country differently. The north of the country represents 50% of the total surface area of Mexico. Still, it only receives 25% of rain. The center of Mexico represents 22.5% of the entire surface. It receives 27.5% of rain; the south represents 27.5% of the total surface and receives 49.6% of precipitation (Rolland & Cárdenas, 2010). This unequal water distribution causes significant floods in the south and droughts in the north. It also means that 77% of the population can access only 32% of renewable hydric resources (Ibid). Within this context, Mexico would decide to centralize the power of hydric resources into federal institutions that have managed water since 1992.

The system to manage water concessions in Mexico was created in 1992 as part of the law of national waters. Since its inception, it has provided titles without verifying how much water is extracted and for what purposes (Mexicanos Contra la Corrupcion y la Impunidad, n.d.). The 1992 law created the current Comisión Nacional del Agua (Conagua) responsible for water administration. Still, as it took over the previous institution in charge of this (The SRH), its federal budget was reduced from 12% to 1% (Dominguez, 2020).

The Government of Mexico currently needs a system to measure how much water is used by those with water concessions. The Programa Nacional Hídrico (PNH) 2014–2018 is a guideline instrument for national water policy run by the government. The PNH notes the ungovernability of the hydric sector in Mexico and recognizes that inadequate management in the last few decades has led to water scarcity, overexploitation, and contamination (Ibid). To illustrate the deficiencies of Conagua, we can look at the state of Nuevo León, where only 78% of industrial water extraction has automated water meters or the fact that in 2019, only 37% of those obligated to pay for their water use did so (Mexicanos Contra la Corrupcion y la Impunidad, n.d.). Even more concerning is that the current water concession system relies on the users to declare how much water they have used. Conagua has no institutional capability to guarantee water concessions are used for what was authorized or to know if more water is being extracted than the concession approves (Ibid).

With climate change exacerbating droughts and impacting precipitation and water levels of rivers like the Colorado River and the poor water management in Mexico, many Mexicans are left to get water in any way they can. As clean, usable water continues to become a rare resource in Mexico, and worldwide, it is unsurprising to learn that water theft has become a growing problem. As a cartel operative for the Sinaloa Cartel stated, ‘Water is now a valuable asset for us, and as it becomes scarcer, the more we will fight to make sure we have enough’ (Chaparro, 2022).

The World Bank estimates that ‘some 48.6 million cubic meters of drinkable water escape daily from official supply networks, enough to provide water for 200 million people. In developing countries, such water loss amounts to 30–50% of all treated water’ (Felbab-Brown, 2017b, p. 13). In cities like Karachi and Delhi, water leakage from old pipes and water theft conducted by water mafia networks account for 30–35% loss in each city (Felbab-Brown, 2017b). The poor infrastructure behind clean water in Mexico is also responsible for a massive loss of clean water.

In Mexico City alone, 40% of the clean water transported through the ducts in the valley of Mexico is lost to leaks (Molina & Rodríguez n.d.). Poor infrastructure is only a part of the problem in Mexico. Between 2012 and 2018, Conagua reported 2,280 illegal clandestine water tappings. In Nuevo León, each illegal tapping resulted in the loss of the same amount of water that 140,000 people would consume on average (Expansión Política, 2022). In response to water theft on May 14, 2022, the Mexican congress would pass a law handing out 2- to 6-year prison sentences for anyone illegally appropriating clean water (Ibid).

Unfortunately, the problem of water theft has only exploded in Mexico in recent years. Between 2019 and September 2022, over 130,000 illegal watertapping occurred across Mexico (Molina & Rodríguez, n.d.). In the North of Mexico, one of the most arid regions in Mexico, the installations providing water to citizens have become a target of attack by organized crime (Latinus, 2022). Organized crime then takes over, restricts, or conditions the access to water in communities where water is scarce (Ibid). Between 2020 and 2021, the states living under extreme drought saw an increase in illegal water tapping of 70–110% (Gonzalez, 2022). Conagua estimates that in 2020, the detected illegal water tapping left one million Mexicans without water (Ibid). This figure is likely higher since this only calculates the illegal tapping of water that was detected.

The Sinaloa Cartel in Chihuahua understands the control and distribution of water as a new business opportunity to diversify its criminal portfolio and resilience. The business model is twofold: ‘The cartel wants to keep its own weed and poppy fields irrigated, and it wants to be the broker that supplies water to farmers, hotels, and other local businesses that have been left dry’ (Chaparro, 2022). Increasing extreme drought conditions caused by climate change, compounded by poor water management by the government, have increased the water scarcity in Northern and Central Mexico.

According to El Universal, Samuel Garcia Governor of Nuevo Leon oversaw an investigation in his state, which uncovered 6 illegal taps diverted public water that could have provided water to the equivalent of 140,000 homes each. In Estado de Mexico that surrounds Mexico City, the Valle de Bravo dam is at 22% capacity because local farmers withhold water from their own lakes (Morera, 2022). In July 2022, armed men stole a truck carrying over 10,000 l of water as it travelled through the Guadalupe municipality in Nuevo Leon (Ibid).

Regular water theft in the state of Mexico and the illegal activities of organized crime there are well known to government officials according to local residents. It has the effect of reducing water pressure for legal customers, which makes it more difficult to fill cisterns and leads to periodic shut-offs. The perforations of the thieves also lead to massive leaks and water losses, further worsening shortages throughout the legal water distribution system (Infobae, 2022).

It is important to remember that water distribution impacts the most vulnerable and the affluent differently. The wealthy and middle class build private water storage and cisterns to store water that may be available only a few hours a day as was the case in the wealthy and highly developed northern city of Monterrey in 2022 (Linthicum, 2022; Rodriguez et al., 2022).

The indigenous Tarahumara are also victimized by cartels as they are forced to become drug mules. Climate change decimated their agriculture leading to economic desperation and vulnerability combined with a lack of government security institutions to protect them from organized crime making them easy prey for cartels in the northern deserts of Chihuahua (Argomedo, 2020).

The lack of water for people to drink in neighborhoods is not the only source of demand for water theft. Municipal Water Authorities in the state of Chihuahua think that farmers may also be hiring organized crime water thieves for the purposes of guaranteeing a regular water supply (Molina & Rodríguez, n.d.). Interestingly, this diversion often results in rural farmers getting water meant for urbanites.

Authorities are developing and implementing detection equipment to find illegal intakes like geophones which amplify the sound of a leak. However, many states in Mexico such as Oaxaca and Chiapas had no information on water theft when asked, not because it did not exist, but due to a lack of investigative resources, meant they were completely blind to it. A recent report also found almost no successful investigations and prosecutions of water theft as a crime, suggesting that laws on the books are not the problem, but that actual state capacity to prosecute those crimes is (Ibid). The lack of investigative capacity also makes organized crime or cartel linkages more difficult to document. We are left to rely on intrepid reporters such as Luis Chaparro to find that ground truth and informants in cartel-dominated zones. Organized crime seeks to dominate other criminal actors and monopolize crime in its area (Schelling, 1971). Thus, we know that areas with dominant OCGs are likely taxing and annexing local aguachicol rackets as they have with human smugglers and huachicoleros.

While water theft issues have long existed in Mexico, they have exploded since the late 2010s (Córdova, 2019) and become more large-scale and organized with the entry of organized crime actors and climate change-generated demand. Even this, however, is difficult to prove given the lack of and conflicting data on water theft provided by Conagua, according to reporting by Animal Politico (Ibid).

The cartels in particular, and organized crime in general, have recognized the value of water theft. Cartels need it for their illicit crops but acknowledge the importance of managing such a scarce resource in regions stricken by drought. As water scarcity continues to increase due to climate change and poor management, we expect organized crime to continue to diversify into water theft due to its profitability, necessity, and power to coerce citizens who are in dire need of water to survive.

This study sought to explore the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security. The study's finding that climate change and water theft are significant contributors to the global water crisis problem is consistent with existing knowledge. Furthermore, the study has established that climate change indirectly contributes to water theft. However, the study found that existing literature is largely silent on the climate change and water theft nexus. This article attributes the knowledge gap to reliance on a two-node nexus conceptual framework that does not account for climate change and water theft nexus. The article has proposed a three-node nexus conceptual framework to nuance understanding of the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security.

Climate change presents significant risks to water security across the globe. Understanding those risks and the pathways through which climate change impacts water security is critical to developing and implementing better water governance and climate change adaptation initiatives. To this end, this article makes three recommendations for future policy and research as follows.

First, the three-node nexus conceptual framework introduces an important dimension of climate change impact on water security that, at best, has to date remained under-researched and, at worst, largely unexplored/unaccounted for in both academic and policy literature. This study has established that climate change indirectly contributes to water theft and both are known drivers of water scarcity. The study has also established that there is a dearth of literature on the interplay between climate change and water theft and the implications of the same for water security. Thus, future policy and research should pay more attention to this important area.

Second, while the phrase water theft has lately become quite commonplace in the literature as depicted in Figure 1, there remains considerable variation in what is considered water theft in different contexts. In certain instances, water theft is not even explicitly referenced in the law books. For example, as the Kenyan case study revealed, the country's penal code currently neither explicitly mentions water theft nor defines the same as a crime even though water theft is referenced quite often in news reports, academic literature, and government reports. Considering the growing significance of water theft as a driver of water insecurity in the country, the Kenyan government should ensure the penal code is updated to make explicit reference to water theft. The noted creation of a WPU in Kenya is an arguably good move, but the unit would be better placed to effectively charge its mandate if water theft is clearly defined and expressly included in the penal code.

Third, in both Kenya and Mexico, water theft data are either scanty or, in the specific case of Kenya, integrated with other data that together constitute UfW. The existing aggregate data on UfW are useful. However, disaggregating the UfW data would provide greater insight into the UfW problem in the country. For instance, WASREB data on UfW as currently reported in WASREB impact reports are not disaggregated into individual constituent components, making it impossible to have a deeper understanding of the UfW issue. Disaggregation would, for example, make it possible to explore the water theft aspect of UfW in greater depth. Ultimately, for the proposed three-node nexus conceptual framework to be useful in a context such as Kenya, there is a need to disaggregate UfW data. Disaggregation makes it possible to measure and track water theft. This would in turn make it possible to tackle water theft from a point of nuanced knowledge. Moreover, Kenya's newly created WPU seems to be collecting useful data on reports of water theft and arrests. Collaboration between WASREB and WPU could help bridge the current water theft data gap and possibly lead to better policy outcomes in the long run.

In summary, to effectively manage climate change-associated risks to water security, it is important to understand how climate change contributes both directly and indirectly to water insecurity. This article advances knowledge in this area by proposing a three-node nexus conceptual framework for understanding the interplay between climate change, water theft, and water (in)security. In this regard, the article has one notable limitation as follows. The focus on climate change and water theft leaves out a host of other known drivers of water insecurity, which may or may not be impacted by climate change. Future studies should explore how climate change impacts, if at all, other known drivers of water insecurity.

The authors are grateful to the Water Policy editorial team and anonymous reviewers for the stellar editorial support and invaluable peer-review feedback respectively. The corresponding author also wishes to thank his faculty writing circle colleagues at Sam Houston State University particularly Erin Owens, Lesley Hughes, Joshua Haynes, David Moss, Michael Dakeev, Pablo Poveda, Scottie Buehler, John Navarro, Ashton Mouton, and Elisa Herrmann among others for the moral support.

All relevant data are included in the paper or its Supplementary Information.

The authors declare there is no conflict.