Posts Tagged ‘global warming’
“The beaver told the rabbit as they stared at the Hoover Dam: ‘No, I didn’t build it myself, but it’s based on an idea of mine’.”*…
A warming climate is enabling rodents– notably beavers– to move north. Warren Cornwall reports…
In the summer of 2023, University of Alaska Fairbanks ecologist Ken Tape walked across the tundra on the outskirts of Nome, Alaska, to a site where a shallow stream just a few meters wide had flowed 2 years before. In its place he found an enormous pond, created by a dam made of branches bearing the distinctive marks of beaver incisors.
It was a vivid illustration of how beavers are transforming the Arctic. In Tape’s past work studying Arctic landscapes, such places changed little over decades. “It gives you a sense of timelessness,” he says. “With beavers, that couldn’t be further from the truth,” as the chunky rodents quickly replumb vast areas by building dams that can stretch hundreds of meters.
Soon, the land-altering power of beavers could be felt in a region currently beyond their reach: the farthest northern parts of the Alaskan Arctic. In a 30 July paper in Environmental Research Letters, Tape and James Speed of the Norwegian University of Science and Technology forecast that as a warming climate eases Arctic temperatures, beaver populations will march northward, sweeping across Alaska’s North Slope this century. Their arrival could bring dramatic change, the researchers say, upending ecosystems in places such as the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and accelerating the loss of permafrost that stores vast amounts of carbon…
… Today, satellite images show more than 11,000 beaver ponds dotting the Arctic tundra south of the Brooks Range, a wall of mountains running east to west that isolates the North Slope. The number there doubled from 2003 to 2017.
The end of widespread fur trapping, which has allowed beavers to recolonize many parts of North America where they had been eliminated, might be driving some of the increase. But the new analysis finds that rising average temperature is a major factor in the beavers’ advance.
Tape suspects warmer weather is critical because it means more unfrozen water in winter. A completely frozen pond can trap beavers in their lodges and make food caches inaccessible. Milder winters could preserve pockets of liquid water around springs or ponds. Melting permafrost also creates more groundwater-fed springs. And earlier spring thaws enable beavers to forage just as their food supplies dwindle.
“The ecological bottleneck for beavers is the end of winter,” Tape says. “Now imagine that comes 2 weeks earlier.”
Using computer models that forecast how a warming climate could expand the amount of Alaskan tundra suitable for beavers, the researchers found that the area dotted with ponds could nearly double by 2050, and more than triple by the end of the century, from 30,000 square kilometers to 99,000 square kilometers. In these scenarios, beavers would breach the Brooks Range and spread across the North Slope to the shores of the Beaufort Sea…
… Residents of the Arctic have mixed feelings about their new neighbors. Ezra Adams, a member of the Native Village of Noatak, just south of the Brooks Range, says his father first saw a beaver there in the late 1990s, when Adams was 6 years old. Now, the animals have altered his family’s way of life. Their dams have reduced creeks where Adams once caught whitefish and salmon to a trickle. When out trapping or gathering firewood in the winter, he must beware of breaking through the ice on beaver ponds. Whereas his father once drank straight from lakes in the backcountry, Adams now brings treated water to avoid giardia in beaver feces. There are some upsides. Adams uses beaver meat to bait traps and beaver pelts for garments. “They provide a lot for our trapping,” Adams says. “But then for the general population it would be beneficial if there weren’t as many.”
Researchers, too, see both risks and benefits in beaver expansion. New ponds could become hot spots for songbirds and other wildlife. But they also hasten the thaw of permafrost, promoting the release of planetwarming carbon dioxide. A soon-to-be-published survey of 11 beaver pond systems in Arctic Alaska, for example, found that the water-covered area increased more than 600% once beavers arrived. Nearby ground thawed so much that researchers could plunge 1.2-meter-long rods used to test permafrost all the way to the tip.
Ponds could also create ample new habitat for microorganisms that convert carbon to methane, an even more potent warming gas, Griffin notes. “If we are going to start having expansion of wetlands because of beaver dams, how is that going to tip the balance between carbon and methane?” he wonders.
He might soon find out. Tape has already stumbled on one beaver pond on the northern slope of the Brooks Range. Although it disappeared a few years later, the pond showed beavers can cross the mountains. To spread even farther north, Tape notes, “they just have to swim downstream.”…
A report on climate migration already underway: “Beavers are poised to invade and radically remake the Arctic,” from @science.org.
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As we give it up for Gaia, we might might recall that on this date in 1805, the Lewis and Clark expedition had reached the forks of the Jefferson River in Montana. Lewis and a small group had gone ahead scouting, and had sent back word, left in the form of a note pinned to a tree in the camp, for Clark and the rest of the party. But Clark never got the note, and headed down the branch (the Big Hole River) against which Lewis had warned… his canoes capsized and one of his party was injured. As they regrouped at their camp, a member of Lewis’ party arrived and explained that there had been a miscommunication. Clark’s journal entry for August 6, 1985 recounts:
… Capt Lewis had left a Letter on a pole in the forks informing me what he had discovered & the course of the rivers &c. this lettr was Cut down by the [beaver] as it was on a green pole & Carried off. Three Skins which was left on a tree was taken off by the Panthers or wolvers…
“Heap high the farmer’s wintry hoard! Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn!”*…
… but exercise care. In an excerpt from his new book, We Are Eating the Earth- The Race to Fix Our Food System and Save Our Climate, Michael Grunwald with the story of Tim Searchinger, the cascading impact of ethanol production on climate change, and the importance of fighting for lost causes…
Something felt off.
Tim Searchinger lacked the proper credentials to say exactly what was off that day in the spring of 2003. He was a lawyer, not a scientist or economist. He was reading a complex technical paper on an unfamiliar topic, produced by well-respected researchers at the world-renowned Argonne National Laboratory. Sitting at his cluttered desk in the Environmental Defense Fund’s sixth-floor offices in Washington, D.C., overlooking the famous back entrance to the Hilton where President Ronald Reagan was shot, he just had a sense the paper didn’t add up.
Searchinger tended to distrust new information until he could study it to a pulp. He never assumed consensus views were correct, conventional wisdom was wise, or sophisticated-looking scientific analyses reflected reality. He questioned everything, so his unease that day didn’t feel particularly unusual. He had no inkling it would eventually lead him to a new profession—and the world to a new way of thinking about food, farming, land use, and climate change.
The Argonne study analyzed whether fueling cars with corn ethanol rather than gasoline reduced greenhouse gas emissions, which did not seem like a particularly urgent question in 2003. And Searchinger was a wetlands guy fighting to save the streams and swamps that provide kitchens and nurseries for fish and wildlife, not an energy-and-climate guy trying to keep carbon out of the atmosphere. So it was a bit odd that he would slog through such an obscure report.
But not too odd.
He was also an agriculture guy, because farms were the main threat to the wetlands he wanted to protect. And he was above all a details guy, a data sponge willing to soak up minutiae far too technical for less obsessive laymen. The revelatory stuff usually seemed to be hidden in arcane modeling assumptions and other fine print. He was a compulsive reader of boring papers, all the way through the footnotes, and he had learned from his uphill legal and political battles that knowledge could be a powerful weapon against money. He always did the reading, and his burden in life was that others didn’t.
Ethanol was just his latest uphill battle.
It was the most common form of alcohol, the fermented magic in beer, wine, and liquor. It was also a functional automotive fuel; it had powered the first internal combustion engine, and Henry Ford once called it the future of transportation. Gasoline turned out to be more efficient and better for engines, so ethanol mostly ended up in solvents and booze. But in the 1970s, ethanol distilled from corn—the “field corn,” or maize, grown by grain farmers, not the “sweet corn” you eat off the cob—had carved out a small role as an additive in US fuel markets.
That was the start of a twisted political love story. Farm interests, whose outsized political influence dated back to America’s origins as an agrarian nation, seized on ethanol as a new government gravy train. The U.S. Department of Agriculture, founded under President Abraham Lincoln for the express purpose of supporting farmers, backed ethanol as enthusiastically as it backed farm subsidies, farm loans, and other federal farm aid. And presidential candidates sucked up to farm interests so reliably that a West Wing episode lampooned the quadrennial tradition of ethanol pandering before the Iowa caucus, as the fictional future president Matt Santos considered denouncing subsidies he considered stupid and wasteful.
“You come out against ethanol, you’re dead meat,” an aide warned Santos. “Bambi would have a better shot at getting elected president of the NRA than you’ll have of getting a single vote in this caucus.”
The Midwestern grain interests behind ethanol did have serious political swat. The top ethanol producer was agribusiness giant Archer Daniels Midland, whose former CEO helped finance the Watergate burglary, and whose reputation as an all-powerful force of corporate darkness would soon be satirized in The Informant! The U.S. industry owed its existence to a lavish tax break for domestic ethanol and a punitive tariff on foreign ethanol, both of which owed their existence to Big Ag lobbyists. The corn the industry distilled into fuel was also subsidized through “loan deficiency payments,” “counter-cyclical payments,” and a slew of other bureaucratically differentiated programs that all diverted taxpayer dollars into farmer wallets. The farm lobby usually got what it wanted out of Washington—not only subsidies and tax breaks, but exemptions from wetlands protections, pollution limits, and other regulations. Even the federal rule limiting the hours truckers could drive had a carve-out for agricultural deliveries.
Still, barely 1 percent of America’s fuel was ethanol, and barely 1 percent of America’s corn became ethanol. The issue wasn’t on Searchinger’s radar until Big Ag began pushing an ethanol mandate, and he began worrying it could become the corn industry’s new growth engine.
His concern had nothing to do with climate change, because that wasn’t on his radar, either. It wasn’t yet a front-burner issue in Washington, and he knew no more about it than the average newspaper reader. He was focused on preserving what was left of nature in farm country, and preventing polluted farm runoff from fouling rivers and streams. More ethanol would mean more cornfields, more pollution, and more drainage of the Midwest’s few remaining wetlands.
Most Americans seemed to think the middle of the country was somehow ordained to be amber waves of grain—he used to think so, too—but he always kept in mind that it had once been a vibrant landscape of tallgrass prairies and forested swamps, a temperate-zone Serengeti with spectacularly diverse plant communities and birds that darkened the sky. Washington had accelerated the near-total obliteration of that ecosystem, with incentives as well as rhetoric encouraging farmers to grow crops from “fence row to fence row,” and ethanol seemed like the latest excuse to complete Middle America’s metamorphosis into an uninterrupted cornfield. Searchinger was on the prowl for science he could use to prevent that, so when he heard about the Argonne paper, in those days before studies were routinely posted online, he called the lead author, a Chinese-born environmental scientist named Michael Wang, and asked him to FedEx it.
Unfortunately, Wang’s team had calculated that ethanol generated 20 percent fewer greenhouse gases than gasoline, a modest but measurable improvement. Wang had helped pioneer the “life-cycle analyses” that were becoming standard in the field, and the emissions model known as GREET that he developed at Argonne was considered state-of-the-art, while Searchinger had never even read a climate study. So he didn’t really have standing to object.
But he did know models could mislead, because one of his professional obsessions was exposing how the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers cooked the books of cost-benefit analyses to justify its own ridiculously destructive water projects. He had learned from Army Corps documents how economic and scientific models could be structured and twisted to reach convenient conclusions, how garbage in plus garbage assumptions could produce garbage out. And when he started thumbing through the ethanol study, he had familiar bad vibes.
Wang had found that drilling oil and refining it into gasoline emitted much fewer greenhouse gases than planting, fertilizing, and harvesting corn and refining it into ethanol. Initially, Searchinger was confused: If the agro-industrial complex was twice as carbon-intensive as the petro-industrial complex, why would ethanol have a smaller carbon footprint?
The study’s answer was that cornfields, unlike oil wells, were carbon sinks. The Argonne team assumed that growing corn on a farm offset the tailpipe emissions from burning corn in an engine, because cornstalks sucked carbon out of the atmosphere through photosynthesis. The climate case for farm-grown fuels was that ethanol merely recycled carbon, while gasoline liberated carbon that had been buried for eons. It made sense that ethanol, a renewable fuel, would be climate-friendlier than gasoline, a fossil fuel. “Renewable” sounded clean and green, while “fossil” evoked zombies coming back from the dead to destroy the earth.
Searchinger’s spidey-sense kept tingling, though. His father, another question-everything guy, liked to quote H. L. Mencken: “For every complex human problem, there’s a solution that’s clear, simple and wrong.” That’s what ethanol felt like. And the more he thought about the study, the less he understood its conclusions.
Yes, corn soaked up carbon as it grew. But it soaked up just as much carbon whether it was grown for fuel or food! Why would growing corn for ethanol and burning it in an engine be any climate-friendlier than growing that same corn for food and burning an equivalent amount of gasoline in an engine? The carbon absorbed in the field wouldn’t change; neither would the carbon emitted from the car. If the only difference was that producing ethanol emitted much more carbon than producing gasoline, where were ethanol’s benefits?
That led back to his original concern: If more corn was diverted from food to fuel, how would the lost food be replaced? Presumably, Midwest farmers would plant more corn, converting more wetlands into farmland that would get blasted with more chemicals. Again, he wasn’t focused on the climate impact, just the environmental impact of losing habitat and increasing pollution. But he had a hunch the Argonne researchers and their spiffy analytical tools were also understating the climate costs of using grain to fuel our cars instead of ourselves.
Searchinger loved figuring things out, and he was on the verge of figuring something out that would transform climate analysis.
Uncharacteristically, though, he lost interest.
For one thing, it became clear that climate would be irrelevant to the debate over the proposed “Renewable Fuels Standard.” With America at war in Iraq, ethanol’s boosters were touting the mandate as a win-win that would reduce reliance on Middle Eastern oil while propping up demand for Midwestern corn. They weren’t touting it as a climate solution, because Washington wasn’t looking for climate solutions. The Senate had unanimously rejected the Kyoto Protocol a few years earlier, and Congress had ignored the issue ever since.
It also became clear the biofuels debate would be another charade controlled by farm interests and farm-friendly politicians. President George W. Bush had genuflected to ethanol in Iowa, as future presidents always do. (Even The West Wing’s Santos caved.) Senate Democratic Leader Tom Daschle of South Dakota, whose top aide later became an ethanol lobbyist, and Republican House Speaker Dennis Hastert of Illinois—who also became an ethanol lobbyist, before going to jail in a child molestation scandal—were both farm-state biofuels boosters.
Searchinger did try to lobby some non-Midwestern politicians to oppose the mandate, arguing it would punish their constituents at the pump to subsidize out-of-state agribusinesses. But even an aide to Democratic Senator Jon Corzine, a former Wall Street titan from corn-free New Jersey, sheepishly admitted his boss couldn’t buck the ethanol lobby, because he might need Iowans someday.
Come on, Searchinger pleaded, the guy who ran Goldman Sachs thinks he’s running for president?
“Tim, they’re all running for president,” the aide replied.
Searchinger sometimes joked that he was the patron saint of almost-lost causes, because he spent his days failing to save wetlands, failing to stop farms from degrading the environment, and failing to reform the Army Corps. He didn’t go looking for uphill battles—he’s a generally friendly guy with no particular lust for conflict—but he didn’t shy away from them, and as an enviro in ag world, he ended up in a lot of them. Even his victories felt temporary, because defenders of nature have to win again and again to keep wild places wild, while despoilers of nature only have to win once. And unlike campaigns to save the whales or the Grand Canyon, causes that inspired public outrage and sympathetic press, his fine-print fights to limit the damage from American agriculture went mostly unnoticed.
Usually, he was fine with that. He was a relatively happy warrior who believed knowledge could at least sometimes be power. But sometimes, power was power, and the anti-ethanol cause felt unusually lost. ADM, which owned half of America’s ethanol plants, seemed to own half of Congress, too. The proposed mandate wasn’t big enough to transform the Midwest, anyway, so he moved on to issues where victory was at least conceivable.
In retrospect, he’s embarrassed by how much he failed to grasp in 2003. At the time, he was totally unaware of the climate benefits of the wetlands he was fighting to save. He also knew almost nothing about international agriculture and its intrusions into tropical rainforests, so he overlooked how mandating farm-grown fuel in America could trigger deforestation and food shortages abroad. It certainly hadn’t dawned on him that biofuels represented a larger land-use problem that threatened humanity’s future on a planet with limited land to use.
Then again, it hadn’t dawned on anyone else, either.
Searchinger would later return to ethanol and climate, making scientific and economic connections the field’s scientists and economists had missed. He would then figure out how agriculture was eating the earth, and create the first serious plan for preventing that. It was an odd plot twist for an urban lawyer whose closest encounter with farm life growing up had been the petting zoo in Central Park.
But not too odd.
Taking on biofuels, and then the broader food and climate problem, required a wonk-crusader smart and stubborn enough to master the intricacies of esoteric models in unfamiliar disciplines, intellectually arrogant enough to believe he could parachute into the new fields and prove the experts wrong, and foolishly romantic enough to believe his impertinent crusades could help save the world. That’s always been who he is…
“How Big Agriculture Mislead the Public About the Benefits of Biofuels,” from @mikegrunwald.bsky.social via @literaryhub.bsky.social.
For more, see this World Resources Institute reports authored by Searchinger: “Why Dedicating Land to Bioenergy Won’t Curb Climate Change.”
* John Greenleaf Whittier
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As we tackle tradeoffs, we might spare a thought for James Lovelock; he died on this date in 2022 (which was also his 103rd birthday). An independent scientist, environmentalist, and futurist, he invented (in 1957) the Electron Capture Detector, a portable analytical instrument able to detect infinitesimal traces of halogenated organic compounds. The device revealed once untraceable amounts in the biosphere, of man-made chemicals such as CFCs or pesticide pollutants. French philosopher Bruno Latour compared that technological advance to the leap when Galileo’s telescope invention could peer deeper into space, revealing so much previously unseen.
He is better known for his Gaia Hypothesis, which he developed in the 1960s while designing scientific instruments for NASA and working with Royal Dutch Shell. Lovelock suggested that the Earth functions as a planet-sized superorganism—subterranean bacteria to the ice crystals of the stratosphere, working in a gigantic living network.
For more on the remarkable man, his accomplishments, and the Gaia Hypothesis, see Jon Watts‘ The Many Lives of James Lovelock: Science, Secrets and Gaia Theory.
“Every picture tells a story”*…
The world’s populations is unevenly spread across the globe. But, plotted by latitude (as per this visualization from Engaging Data), it’s a little more concentrated…
… which is interesting (perhaps better said, “bracing”) to consider aside this illustration from NOAA…
Global warming is coming for most of us: “World Population Distribution by Latitude and Longitude,” from @engagingdata.bsky.social and @climate.noaa.gov.
See also: “The world is heating up. How much can our bodies handle?” from @gristnews.bsky.social and “Understanding Climate Migration,” from RAND.
* traditional saying
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As we feel the heat, we might spare a thought for John Graunt; he died on this date in 1674. A haberdasher turned statistician, he is considered by many to be the father of demography (the statistical study of human populations).
A charter member of The Royal Society, Graunt distributed a 90-page book, Natural and Political Observations Mentioned in a Following Index, and Made upon the Bills of Mortality at the February, 1662 Society meeting. He described his work as having “reduced several great confused volumes” of parish records into a few easily to understood tables, and “abridged such Observations… into a few succinct Paragraphs.” He initiated “life tables” of life expectancy. His use of demographics was further pioneered by his friend Sir William Petty and Edmond Halley, the Astronomer Royal.
Graunt’s work also gives him some claim to having been the first epidemiologist.
“Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand”*…
(Roughy) Daily has looked before at that most common– and essential– of substances, sand. (See here, here, and here.) Today, via Michaela Büsse, an update…
After water, sand is the second most used material in the world. Each year, approximately 40-50 billion metric tons of sand are consumed worldwide.
This accounts for 79% of all aggregates extracted and traded, making sand the literal foundation for global human infrastructure. Sand plays a vital role in the production of glass, steel, and concrete. Silica, one of the most common minerals found in sand, is the key ingredient in silicon chips and thus for the development of digital technologies. But sand is also fundamental to the creation and maintenance of land itself, rendering it constitutive to processes of urbanization. Artificial islands, port expansions, and beach nourishment projects consume vast quantities of sand. As the bedrock of urban infrastructures, sand is embedded in the very fabric of modern life. Yet, its ubiquity belies its complexity. As a sediment, sand is foundational for the functioning of ecosystems. The relentless expansion and intensification of cities is starving rivers and coasts of sediment, depleting sand at a rate that far exceeds its natural replenishment.
Intensive dredging of rivers and seabeds has fundamentally altered sedimentation patterns, disrupting the delicate equilibrium that governs ecosystems. Rivers, which once carried sand from mountains to coastlines, now struggle to replenish beaches and wetlands. This depletion has far-reaching consequences. Without sufficient sand deposits, coastlines are left vulnerable to erosion, rising sea levels, and the devastating impact of extreme weather events. In ecosystems already on the front lines of climate change—like deltas, wetlands, and estuaries—the effects of sand extraction are compounded. Delta regions, for instance, rely on continuous sediment deposits to counteract the natural sinking of land. When sand is removed faster than it can be replaced, these regions are exposed to subsidence, where land sinks at an accelerated rate, amplifying flood risk and increasing the salinization of freshwater resources. Such impacts are often delayed, manifesting years or even decades after extraction, making them challenging to monitor and mitigate effectively.
As global sand consumption surges to unprecedented heights, the profound and far-reaching consequences of extraction come sharply into focus. Numerous journalistic and scientific accounts warn of the “looming tragedy of the sand commons,” highlighting environmental concerns related to dredging and mining sand, such as pollution, biodiversity loss, and soil disturbance, as well as illegal practices in the sand trade. The reality of the sand trade is both dirty and messy, intertwining national and transnational politics. In regions like Southeast Asia, rapid urbanization and investments in large-scale infrastructure projects have spurred an unprecedented demand for this essential resource. Here, land reclamation has emerged as a flashpoint where extraction practices intersect with issues of sovereignty, livelihoods, and environmental justice, transforming sand into a highly sought-after and contested commodity. Building new land for some means taking old land from others. The exploitation of sand goes hand in hand with exploitative labor and geopolitical maneuvering.
Sand’s impending scarcity has fueled a black market, giving rise to “sand mafias”—criminal organizations that exploit extraction and trade through corruption, violence, and intimidation, often circumventing national mining and export bans. It is not uncommon for sand to become a matter of life and death for those who mine it as well as for those who seek to prevent it from being mined. Across the world, activists and local communities have mobilized against sand extraction and land reclamation, fighting the prevailing narratives of development and progress that often justify environmental exploitation. However, these initiatives are rarely successful, resulting (at best) in compensation payments to the affected communities. A transboundary governance of sand would require international standards, which many researchers and organizations have requested. Even so, it is nearly impossible to control the natural flow of sand.
As sand transitions from a sediment to a precious resource, it has become instrumental in urban ideals of late modernity. Cities like Dubai and Singapore epitomize how architectural ambitions is built on vast quantities of imported sand. Land built from scratch, towering skyscrapers, and sprawling infrastructure are testaments to sand’s transformative potential. Yet, these urban landscapes are haunted by their materiality: each grain is a silent witness to the ecological and social disruptions that enabled its journey. The sand in these structures embodies the persistence of environmental degradation, displaced labor, and the exploitation that made them possible. In this way, sand is both an architect and a specter of modernity’s unrestrained ambitions, leaving us to confront the shadows cast by our own constructions…
Eminently worth reading in full: “Granular Power: The Gritty Politics of Sand,” from @michaelabussey.bsky.social and @eflux.bsky.social.
* Jorge Luis Borges
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As we get grainy, we might send insightful birthday greetings to James Hansen; he was born on this date in 1941. An atmospheric physicist, he was Director of the NASA Goddard Institute for Space Studies (from 1981-2013). He is best known for his (June, 1988) testimony to the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee that there was 99% certainty the cause of climate change was known with 99% certainty to be the buildup of carbon dioxide and other artificial gases in the atmosphere– helping raise broad awareness of global warming– and for his advocacy of action to avoid dangerous climate change. (Hansen has since proposed a revised explanation of global warming, where the 0.7°C global mean temperature increase of the last 100 years can be to some extent explained by the effect of greenhouse gases other than carbon dioxide (such as methane).
Currently the Director of the Program on Climate Science, Awareness and Solutions of the Earth Institute at Columbia University, he remains a climate activist.
“We are the first generation to feel the effect of climate change and the last generation who can do something about it”*…
… So what we do and how we do it matters. Sam Lavigne and Tega Brain warn that one of the most popular current approaches is unfair and could be a dead end…
Carbon offsetting injects market logic into thin air. It demands that certain activities become measured and standardized, reduced to the single dimension of the carbon dioxide molecule. The goal is fungibility—to assert equivalence between activities by people or environments so that emissions created over here can be traded and (theoretically) compensated for by actions removing or reducing carbon over there. The means is, of course, commodification. Offsets privatize planetary metabolism.
Offsetting is the logic behind “net zero.” “Think about it like a bath,” suggests National Grid. “The amount of water in the bath depends on both the input from the taps and the output via the plughole. To keep the amount of water in the bath at the same level, you need to make sure that the input and output are balanced.” Or, as McKinsey & Company puts it: “Net zero is an ideal state where the amount of greenhouse gasses released into the earth’s atmosphere is balanced by the amount of greenhouse gasses removed.”
Policymakers and corporations around the world have embraced the concept of net zero as a pathway to address the climate crisis. Nation states, corporations, public institutions, and even art exhibitions purchase offsets as financial assets (called carbon credits) in an attempt to compensate for their emissions and reach a state of carbon neutrality. Traded as financial commodities on carbon markets, offsets are supposed to represent either carbon dioxide reductions—via avoided emissions that would have otherwise happened in a business-as-usual scenario—or carbon dioxide removals—where some of the carbon already hanging about in the atmosphere is drawn down. Offsetting projects range from tree planting and conservation to changes in energy infrastructures, jet engine cleaning schemes, and programs for reducing methane emissions from cows. The carbon fluxes produced by offsetting projects are measured, quantified, priced, abstracted, and finally sold via carbon registries to emitters looking to claim a lower carbon footprint. What is counted as an offsetting project, however, and what is not, is left to the discretion of these registries.
The assumption underpinning offsets is that paying to compensate for emissions creates a powerful economic incentive for emissions reductions. In practice, however, it risks doing exactly the opposite. The logic of offsetting suggests that carbon intensive activities can continue as long as someone else, somewhere else, cleans up the mess…
Lavigne and Brain recount the history of the offset and explore it in practice, exposing its failings; they then turn to possible remediation…
… To foster an appreciation for some of these oversights—what current carbon markets are not counting—we have built a more inclusive carbon registry. We have developed new methodologies for how political actions that contribute to a program of carbon savings and radical change can be counted, measured, and transformed into offsets. What if we were to take the proposal of net zero seriously and apply carbon accounting to a wider range of human activities?
Our first carbon offsetting methodology, titled “Industrial Sabotage as Temporary Carbon Storage,” enables actions by groups like Blockade Australia, Water Protectors, and the Tyre Extinguishers to be analyzed with a carbon counting technique that was originally developed by the forestry industry. Called “temporary carbon storage,” this method provides a way of calculating the carbon benefit of delaying the release of emissions, like the harvest of a plantation forest. Although this approach has never before been used to calculate the benefits of production delays caused by activists who block fossil fuel infrastructures from producing emissions, we have rigorously undertaken this work, holding ourselves to the same standards as the offsetting industry. A marketplace for the resultant carbon credits is under development, where all proceeds will be donated back to support the groups responsible for these actions.
A second methodology further explores the carbon savings of sabotage and efforts to slow productivity. “Time Theft as Avoided Emissions” quantifies the carbon savings of immobilizing corporate executives working in the energy and extraction industries We applied this approach in a new offsetting project titled Cold Call, in which participants are invited to work in a call center and make calls to distract the oil and gas executives from their jobs for as long as possible.
To return to the words of [Australian activist] Max Curmi, sabotage reveals a system functioning exactly as it is meant to:
[The system] is actually not broken. It’s performing exactly the way it was set up … For the climate movement to actually start to engage with this in an effective way we have to acknowledge the situation that we are currently facing. It’s not a couple of bad politicians or a couple of bad corporations, it’s an entire economic and legal framework that prevents change from happening and that locks in an extraction-based economy that is fundamentally about exploiting people and the environment for as much profit as possible for the rich…
Eminently worth reading in full: “All that is Air Melts into Air,” from @sam_lavigne and @tegabrain.
Pair with: “Words Versus Words, Fire with Fire” on climate change denial (and deflection) propaganda and how to counter it.
* Barack Obama
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As we ruminate on remediation, we might recall that it was on this date in 1975 that the term “global warming” appeared for the first time in print, with the publication of Wallace Smith Broecker’s paper “Climatic Change: Are We on the Brink of a Pronounced Global Warming?” in the journal Science.
Five years earlier, in 1970, Broecker, a researcher at Columbia University’s Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory, published a study of ocean sediment cores that revealed the Ice Age had seen rapid transitions in its Broecker argued that there was an increasingly likely scenario for this to happen: the ongoing rise of atmospheric carbon dioxide content created by fossil fuel emissions would soon begin to warm the planet, in turn warming surface waters in the ocean and melting ice into fresh water. This would reduce the waters’ density, thereby preventing cold water from sinking, altering ocean currents and effectively shutting off the conveyor belt. If that were to happen, he postulated, Europe would grow cooler as it did during the Ice Age. The more disruptive effect would come from unpredictable “on-and-off flickers” in global temperature. As Broecker put it in 1998, “the climate system is an angry beast and we are poking it with sticks.”
Broecker built on this discovery in his 1975 paper, which hypothesized that the Ice Age’s rapid fluctuations had been caused by changes in “thermohaline circulation”: the ocean currents and wind systems that move heat from the equator up north towards the poles and transport cold water toward the equator. Broecker later named this the “Great Ocean Conveyor.” He believed that rapid changes in climate were once again possible if this conveyor belt were changed or “turned off.”…
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