Tag Archives: climate change

Calving Laws

A very thorough article in the New York Times about the collapse of Greenland’s Ice Sheet was less than precise about the timeline for rising ocean levels.   Melting on this scale is unprecedented in human history.  University of California – Irvine professor Eric Rignot was quoted saying ‘‘‘We’ve never seen it. No human has ever seen it.’’

The problem is made worse by the fact that ice is complicated.

“Glaciologists remain vexed, for instance, by the physics of how ice cleaves off the edge of the sheet. As Rignot told me, ‘‘We don’t have a set of mathematical rules to put in a numerical model to tell you how fast a glacier breaks into icebergs.’’ He emphasized that discovering these rules, known as calving laws, could be all-­important. Richard Alley, a glaciologist at Penn State, told me: ‘‘Problems that deal with fracture mechanics — volcanic eruptions, or earthquakes, or things that involve the question ‘Will it break or not?’ — tend to be difficult. You ask, Will the ice shelf break off a lot or a little bit? Will the cliff left behind crumble? Will it crumble fast? Will it crumble slow?’’ So far, Alley says, we can’t be sure. But a formula might tell us in advance how fast the ice sheets might crash into the sea.”

After I told Trail Baboon’s sing-song poet laureate Tyler Schuyler Wyler about this unfortunate gap in scientific understanding of the effects of climate change, he immediately warmed to the idea of taking it on as an artistic challenge.

The great glaciers up in Greenland look serene and sharp and still.
But they’re melting at the speed at which great glaciers often will.

If you want to know how fast that is I’ll share this helpful clue:
Mammoth  ice chunks liquefy as quickly as they’re wont to do,

They will crack and pop and shift and drain from bottom to the top.
Getting worse exactly at the rate that ice shelves go “ker-plop,”

when they drop into the ocean with sufficient force to flatten,
and to cause enough displacement to submerge lower Manhattan.

To assess the speed precisely you can do this computation –
Take the age of your old Buick times the planet’s population

Then subtract the number of bike trips you took to work last May
from the setting on your thermostat on any average day.

Then divide this by how often you drive to the corner store
plus how long you let it idle while you run back in for more.

Add that number to the time it takes to soak in a hot tub
and you’ll know how quickly glaciers melt!

Glub glub, glub glub.

Glub Glub.

Where’s your favorite spot to view the ocean?

A Song After the Binge

Header photo via NASA Ice / James Yungel

The hits just keep coming in the climate change parade. Most recently a new NASA study predicted that an Antarctic ice shelf the size of Scotland could collapse by 2020.

Favorite quote from the Washington Post story:

“What might happen is that for a few years, we will have the detachment of big icebergs from this remaining ice shelf, and then at one point, one very very warm summer, when you have lots of melting of the surface, the whole thing will just give way, and will shatter into thousands of smaller icebergs,” says the Jet Propulsion Laboratory’s Ala Khazendar, lead author of the new study.

My understanding:  While the ice shelf is already in the water and its collapse alone won’t appreciably lift global water levels, it will open up the way for melting land-based glaciers to flow more easily into the sea.

That’s not good.

The ice shelf in question is called Larsen B, which immediately reminded me of this song about the unpleasant after-effects of an unfortunate and ill-advised binge.

We’re melting the Larsen B
with every added degree.
As tall icebergs fall into the foam.
Liquefy snow.
The glaciers let go.
Well, the ice shelf broke up
Submerging my home.

I hope that our fins evolve
As quick as the ice dissolve.
Antarctica wants to flow
over my home!
Soaking the loam.
That is the point of this poem, yeah yeah.
When the ice shelf broke up,
submerging my home.

Like ice cubes to a drunk
we’re hypnotized by each chunk
a prize, Scotland-sized, floating away.
Sea levels rise
You can predict the demise.
The ice shelf broke up
Submerging my home.

Add some lyrics or describe a night drinking with your grandfather.

Carnival Town

We are ALL Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

We are ALL Dr. Babooner
We are ALL Dr. Babooner

I suffer from a litte-known, not-well-understood condition called Atariphobia, which is an unsupported-by-facts but nonetheless pervasive fear of invaders from space.

Consequently, I find myself constantly scanning the sky for signs of flying saucers.

In addition, I am a practicing Orsonist. As followers of the late actor/director Orson Welles, we Orsonists assume that in every case the most dramatic explanation is automatically the one that’s most likely to be true.

Rosebud!

Welles is known for the classic 1938 “War of the Worlds” radio broadcast,  which convinced too many people that Earth was under attack.  As a result, smoldering craters of every kind give me the creeps. When our family went to visit Yellowstone National Park, I stayed in the hotel room the entire time, sobbing.

In spite of these debilitating conditions, I am usually able to lead a typical life. But there’s a blog I follow where the writer often talks about how beautiful our planet looks from space, and he sometimes posts things like this video:

When I look at this, I’m terrified.

Compared to the barren, dead worlds we see elsewhere in our solar system (Mars!) and others we’re discovering throughout the galaxy, our place has a distinct ‘open for business’ look that makes me extremely uneasy.

It’s a swirly, spinning, sparkly gem set against a black background, with inexplicably vivid highlights, like the intermittent green glow of those northern lights – a feature that simply begs to be investigated.

If you were a space alien searching for a fun place to land or a bright bauble to tear apart, ours appears to be the only game in town. Why wouldn’t you come here?

I’m usually not too political, but I called my Congressman to urge her to do something. I thought maybe she could offer legislation to wrap the world in a drab,frumpy bag, dressing it down in the same way a beautiful woman de-emphasizes her best features to discourage unwanted attention.

The congressional aide I spoke with told me the Republican leadership is already doing everything it can to uglify the world through climate change denial. He used the incessant western drought as an example.

“California,” he explained, “is already looking a lot like Uranus.”

But I could hear stifled laughter on the other end of the line. I don’t think they took me very seriously.

Dr. Babooner, people are so willing to mock those who are even a little bit unconventional. How can I get them to consider the real risk posed by our planet’s obvious invade-able-ness?

Trepidatiously,
I.M. Wary

I told I.M.W. there is not much one person can do to make the world seem uninviting to outsiders. And when it comes to putting a potential crisis on the popular agenda, one must wait one’s turn. As a people, we respond to risk when the danger is imminent and our possible responses are limited.  In other words, we will only act when it is too late to act.  But as an Orsonist, I’m sure you’re already well aware that the world will accept no whine before its time.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Burn After Reading

Once I heard that some state officials in Florida have been cautioned against using the words “climate” and “change” right next to each other” in official documents, I felt inspired.

Not by the restriction, but by the way it appears to have been delivered.

Such a written rule would be subject to ridicule of course. But it appears this bit of language and thought control (if it exists), is being carried out as a matter of verbal-only policy making.

This is genius, and also a throwback.

For eons human beings have remembered complex stories and concepts through an oral tradition and the construction of elaborate rhymes. I was intrigued. How could you make it quick and memorable but also put it in a configuration that would enable you to  distribute the “rules” uniformly but without a trace?

I summoned Trail Babboon’s poet laureate, Schuyler Tyler Wyler, and instructed him to create a few lines of verse that would be capable of communicating such a language prohibition to legions of bureaucrats, paper-trail free.

I told him:

  • Verse one must ban the term “climate change”
  • Verse two must outlaw “global warming”
  • Verse three has to prohibit “greenhouse gasses”
  • The fourth verse must end with the word “irony”.

S.T.W. was unimpressed with the subject matter, but for ten dollars he got to work and was back within the hour:

It’s wrong to talk of “Climate Change”.
That phrase is now verboten.
These words, in tandem, don’t arrange.
It upsets them what’s votin’.

And “Global Warming” is taboo.
Because we do not buy it.
For thinking only, you’re free to.
But as for speaking? Quiet!

And likewise,”greenhouse gas” must pass
into the realm unspoken.
This rule must stay invisible
like air on which you’re chokin’.

These verses are not policy.
They’re a device, mnemonic,
to stop the floods. Y’all’ll see.
Effective and ironic!

What words or phrases would you like to ban?

I’m Not Saying

Today’s post comes from Minnesota’s 9th District Congressman Loomis Beechly, representing all the water surface area in the state.

Greetings, Constituents!

I’m not about to say “I told you so”, but there are a lot of people here in Washington DC who are a bit red-faced today about the latest news that the planet broke its all time heat record in 2014.

Some of those faces are red with anger, and others … well, it’s been hot. What do you expect? I’m not saying I fully understand the meaning of this short video from NOAA, but if I was still a teenager and this world map was my face, I’d be alarmed at the blotchy mess it has become. I thought this was supposed to go away as you get older!

I’m not saying we’re incapable of dealing with this problem in a meaningful way, and I’m not naming any names, but I can pretty much assure you that the people who did nothing to address climate change before this latest news can be counted on to keep doing nothing well into the foreseeable future.

That means it’s up to the rest of us.

Now, I’m not about to try to take advantage of this calamity to promote Minnesota tourism, but I do want to remind you that Minnesota is far from all the coasts and we do have lots of nice cool lakes. I’m not saying that Minnesota will be the only safe and/or comfortable place to be when things get harsh everywhere else, and although it pretty much makes that case without saying a word, I’m not trying to draw your attention to the widely published map that clearly indicates we were in one of the world’s rare cool (meaning “normal”) zones last year.

CLIMATE

Why the American Midwest looks so comfortable while all the other parts of the world appear to be sweltering (except out in the middle of some oceans and in Central Africa, where they’re fighting wars right now) is something I’m definitely not saying. But the only reason I’m not saying any of these things is that I know people will get mad at me if I do. Biting my tongue is a real test for me, mostly because it moves so much and my teeth are so tiny. But part of being a politician is knowing when to speak up, and when to be disingenuous.

Your (cool) Congressman,
Loomis Beechly

What makes you bite your tongue?

Ask Dr. Babooner

We are ALL Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I admit I have earned a reputation for being a pest about climate change,  but only because I am 100% committed to changing hearts and minds on this before it is too late!

It’s true, I can get a little intense.

Even people who agree with me have asked that I tone down the rhetoric because they don’t want to hear about global warming all the time!  So  I’ve really forced myself to try to enjoy ordinary things, like going to a football game on a Sunday afternoon.

Yesterday I kept my mouth shut about car exhaust as a friend and I rode to the stadium in his enormous SUV, and bit my lip rather than speak up about the carbon footprint of charcoal grills as we tailgated and had some brats before kickoff.

When we were making our way to the gate I looked up at the stadium and saw an incredibly bright and unbelievably large scoreboard.  High above the field the lights were on, even though it was well before noon! It took all my strength to NOT calculate the amount of coal that was probably being burned at that moment just to make it all possible.

When I realized that this wastefulness was directed at pleasing the fans, I wondered  what would happen if the folks in the bleachers demanded that their teams institute Earth-friendly practices around the games they finance?

Suddenly I saw a large group of chanting people marching with protest signs and my spirits rose – I thought I was witnessing the dawn of the Eco-football movement.  But no! I admit I was just a little bit disappointed when I found out all the commotion was only about human rights.

Dr. Babooner, when I think about the ramifications of a warming Earth and the consequences of our greenhouse-gas-producing behavior, I usually get upset and say something dire, which typically causes these reactions:

  1. The people who disagree with me turn belligerent.
  2. The people who agree with me get depressed.
  3. Ultimately nothing changes.
  4. I’m tired of warning people all the time and seeing that they are not alarmed enough. How can I make my point in a way that will make a difference?

Earnestly,
Cassandra

I told Cassandra that in my opinion, being earnest about important issues usually does not endear one to the masses. I suggested she devote her energy to becoming a celebrity in one field or another – music, movies, sports, etc. Once famous, she should market her low carbon lifestyle as a commodity and people will fall in line – not because they want to save the planet, but because they want to be as cool as she is. Which would ultimately make the whole Earth cooler!

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Enjoying the Anthroposcenery

Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a smart phone in the woods.

H’lo, Bart here.

We get a lot of scientists out here in the woods. I mean lots. More of them than normal people, almost. I think it’s ’cause scientists get paid to come out and do experiments in the chill and the damp with bugs all around, so they have to stay until the work is done even if the weather gets horrible, which it eventually does.

So we can always be pretty sure there’ll be a scientist in the woods, no matter what time of year.

By contrast, normal people who climb into their campers and come to the woods for some R & R will turn tail and get out as soon as it stops being fun, which usually takes 48 hours, or just about one day if they have kids.

People are funny that way, which is why I decided to text you on this since you are one and maybe you understand this.

I’m not really too keen on knowing the name of the geologic age we’re living in, but I couldn’t help noticing the Smithsonian has declared this “The Age of Humans” as a way to drive home the undeniable point that humans have changed the climate with all their activity, and especially their gasses, which they emit at an alarming rate.

Humans also emit a lot of attitude, which is what you need to name a whole epoch after yourself. And by “epoch,” I mean tens of millions of years. That’s pretty bold! I’m not saying it’s a lie, but couldn’t you find someone else to give you the award, so it would at least seem like a surprise?

That’s all I’m saying. I’m a bear. We’re friends. If you’d asked me, I would have given you the “Anthropocene” award and it would have been genuine and heartfelt. And you wouldn’t have seemed to be so self-absorbed. As it is, you’re looking like the guy who throws a surprise birthday party for himself. Not too cool.

So here’s the deal – I’ll say this is “The Age of Humans” if you’ll return the favor, and in a few million years from now make a spontaneous declaration that “The Age of Humans” has ended, and we’ve transitioned into “The Bear Era.”

That’s politics – I’ll scratch your back and you scratch mine. Even though in reality me scratching your back would probably be physically catastrophic for you, and you scratching my back would maybe shake loose a few ticks.

But anyway, you know what I mean. It’s a quid pro quo with the payoff (for us) impossibly far away.

But I’m pretty confident there will still be bears by then, and having a geologic era defined by bear activity would be incredible! Imagine it – the whole planet’s surface, covered with berries and turned into a hibernatorium! Sounds like paradise!

Your pal,
Bart

What should be named after you?

Farmstead By The Sea

Back in the day, my brother would lament that we weren’t born into a money-smart family.

It’s not that our parents were financially reckless – quite the contrary. They were careful and conservative and as a result we were well taken care of all the while we were growing up.

But we were not marinating in entrepreneur sauce.

My brother imagined that under different circumstances, we might have absorbed some business smarts from a line of savvy patriarchs who could have shared their collected wisdom regarding investments, promoted the expectation that fortunes would be made, and somehow transmitted to us a knack for being in the right place at the right time with the right connections to make a killing on emerging market trends.

Whenever he offered up some fresh regret over this unfulfilled scenario, I agreed in order to avoid an argument. But secretly I was glad I hadn’t turned out to be that guy who is always counting the money and scanning the horizon for some way to gain an advantage over everyone else. Life is too short.

But now with new evidence seeming to emerge every day that climate change will cause a rise in the sea level coupled with the news that humans are living longer than ever and the first person destined to reach age 150 is already breathing air on the planet today, I’m wondering if life will ultimately be too long.

And in my most ambitious moments I’m thinking maybe I should fire up my latent market-cornering urges and invest in future beachfront property located considerably back from the shore. Some observers believe it’s not too late to alter your financial strategy to make the best of a global environment that will be water-rich and ice cap-poor. Apparently there’s opportunity there because the market hasn’t adjusted yet for a coming coastal calamity.

In other words, rich people are still buying expensive places with water views. According to the Forbes article linked above, “… billionaires like Larry Ellison are purchasing beachfront property rather aggressively.”

In a world where everyone accepted that climate change is really real, the advantage-takers of Wall Street would be buying farmland, life jackets and pontoons. They’d be crunching the numbers to locate the new waterfront building a Riviera in Ohio. With so much wealth at stake, why don’t they act quickly and aggressively on the conclusions of an overwhelming majority of the world’s scientists?

Unless being money smart is not exactly the same thing as being really smart.

What’s the best financial advice you didn’t follow?

.

A Polluter’s Lament

Featured Image taken by Dori (dori@merr.info)

Last week’s White House National Climate Assessment was remarkably blunt about the reality of our situation – that we are already experiencing the effects of an environmental shift.

For some of us in the baby boom generation who have been following this issue for a long time, this comes as a surprising development. Yes, we had heard that our habits of consumption were contributing to a potential catastrophe, but it always felt our role was simple – to create the problem and then to start a conversation about how later generations would face it and solve it.

Sorry about the mess, guys. Good luck!

Now this latest report seems to suggest the we are not going to be able to skip out on the check after all. Any chance I can go back and un-drive all those miles and un-click all those switches that let the power flow?

I didn’t think so. Would a poem of atonement help? I asked Trail Baboon sing-song poet laureate Tyler Schuyler Wyler to write one up, and he agreed because every stanza could include a reference to death – his favorite subject.

The warming fields and rising seas
The melting ice and dying trees
The drying lakes that will not freeze
This all has come up by degrees.

We’d heard it was a thing to dread.
And by our habits it was sped.
But also was it often said,
It won’t get bad ’til we are dead.

But now they say it has arrived!
Not something still to be derived
for our descendants to survive.
It came while we are still alive!

Our sadness, is, of course, profound.
For glacial ice now in the sound
and forest creatures elsewhere bound,
and us, that we remain around.

What have you witnessed that you thought you would never get to see?