Eating the Sun: How Plants Power the Planet

Transitway station, Ottawa

Oliver Morton’s exploration of the nature and consequences of photosynthesis makes for a remarkable and informative book. It is divided into three sections: one covering the span of a human life and covering the scientific investigation of photosynthesis; one on a planetary timescale, describing the evolution of the climate, atmosphere, and life; and one on the timescale of a tree’s life, covering the changes humanity has induced in the carbon cycle, and the ways through which the climate change crisis can be overcome. The book is strongest when it comes to putting scientific information into a poignant and comprehensible form that is almost poetic. Arguably, it is weakest in terms of its analysis of what needs to be done in response to climate change.

Eating the Sun contains many sections that are highly technical: descriptions of the biochemistry of photosynthesis, the geological and climatological processes that have taken place over billions of years, the scientific methods through which both have been explored, and more. It can also be quirky, philosophical, and personal. For instance, there are asides in which the author explains his aesthetic preference for one or another scientific theory, such as how photosystems I and II in plants came to be integrated. The combination is not unlike that found in Michael Pollan’s work, where an educated non-expert with a talent for writing adopts the task of explaining technical issues and making their significance clearly felt.

The book features a great deal of discussion of the Earth as an integrated chemical and energy system, including consideration for many different forms of ‘Gaia hypotheses’ – most of them far less teleological than James Lovelock’s earliest work, which (probably wrongly) attributed a kind of agency to the planet as a whole. Of particular interest, among the non-telelogical variants, is combination of the anthropic principle with the idea of systems that self-regulate. It may well be that there are planets where physical and chemical processes do not remain constrained between life-compatible bounds over the long term. Of course, there are no living and intelligent observers on these planets to make note of them.

On climate change, Morton fails to appreciate the rapidity with which mitigation must occur. He contemplates what would be necessary to stabilize greenhouse gas emissions by 2050, whereas we will actually need to make great strides towards stabilizing concentrations by then. Rather than the seven Pacala-Socolow wedges required to produce a flat emissions profile, many more will be needed to begin the decline towards zero net emissions. His calm descriptions of global concentrations of carbon dioxide passing 500 parts per million (ppm), with associated temperature increases of up to four degrees Celsius, fails to portray what a catastrophic outcome this would be. These days, those committed to avoiding change of more than two degrees are advocating concentration targets around 350 ppm.

Morton’s discussion of mitigation technologies also offers scope for criticism; in particular, his discussion of nuclear fusion, fission, and hydrogen fuel cells is fairly superficial and fails to take into consideration some of the major limitations associated with each technology. In particular, he fails to consider the practical and economic issues associated with hydrogen as a fuel. That being said, he strongly makes the point that, in the long run, it will be necessary to move from an economy powered by the built-up solar reserves in fossil fuels to one largely powered by the current energy available in sunlight: whether that energy is directed towards the production of electricity, biomass, or fuels.

At times, the level of detail in Eating the Sun can be overwhelming. In particular, I found that some of the passages about biosphere-atmosphere interaction or long-term geological trends required close and repeated reading to be understood. For the non-practitioners at whom this book is aimed, such knowledge is not likely to be long-lasting. At the same time, by providing such clear and vivid detail, Morton grants a worthwhile understanding of the history and nature of the scientific processes through which we have uncovered so much about the world. As with the very best scientific writing, this book makes you feel both awed about the complexity and power of the world and impressed with the ingenuity that has gone into better understanding it. The book is highly recommended to anyone with an interest in the history of the planet, the nature of the carbon cycle, or science generally.

The irony of laissez faire climate policy

Half-built skyscraper

There are those who have adopted what amounts to a business-as-usual climate change policy – hoping that free markets and technological development will stabilize greenhouse gas concentrations at a safe level and deal with the consequences of the climate change that is already on the way, due to past emissions. While a lot of people take this position for self-interested reasons, I think there are at least some who adopt it in good faith. They look back at previous challenges, and situations where some people said a massive societal effort was required, and they see that the problems were less severe than advertised and that a muddled government response was adequate.

The great irony of taking this approach is that it is virtually certain to produce the opposite outcome from what its proponents are seeking. Right now, we have the chance to establish powerful incentives for critical voluntary actions: things like energy efficiency, stopping the construction of coal plants, and developing renewable sources of energy. Mechanisms like a carbon tax, feed-in tariffs for renewables, incentive programs, and the like are ways to encourage both private actors and firms to take these steps. If we fail to put those policies in place and we allow emissions to keep on rising for another decade or more, avoiding catastrophic climate change will only be possible through rigid controls: rationing, strict mandates, and major interventions in business and the lives of individuals. If we fail to take advantage of the time available for a smoothed transition to a low carbon economy, the transition will necessarily be a more abrupt and painful one.

The heuristic that says “we dealt with past problems, therefore we need not sacrifice economic liberty to fight climate change” leads, in all probability, to a situation where curtailing those liberties is the only road forward.

Rebuild the Orbiting Carbon Observatory

Morty and a blue wine glass

A week ago, NASA’s carbon dioxide (CO2) tracking satellite was destroyed en route to space by a faulty booster. The Orbiting Carbon Observatory (OCO) was intended to produce large numbers of measurements of the concentration of carbon dioxide in different parts of the atmosphere. In so doing, it would have helped to identify major CO2 sources and sinks – deepening our understanding of the carbon cycle under human influence. Given the destruction of the original instrument, I think the only sensible course of action is to rebuild it as quickly as can be managed and place it into orbit.

The original mission cost about US$280 million and took about nine years to reach a launch attempt. That being said, it stands to reason that building a second unit would cost less, given that the design and concept testing has already been done. We might also hope that a second unit could be assembled, tested, and launched more quickly. Even if a replacement would cost as much as the original, it would be less than $1 per American, far less per human being, and some tiny fraction of the cost of wars and bank bailouts.

As IPCC Chairman Rajendra Pachauri has said: “If there’s no action before 2012, that’s too late. What we do in the next two to three years will determine our future. This is the defining moment.” Satellite images of the ozone hole helped to propel international action to restrict the emission of CFCs. There is reason to hope that similar data on greenhouse gasses might generate an equivalent political push. Even if it doesn’t, and the data from the OCO remains under the exclusive scrutiny of geeks, it should give us a deeper understanding of how the basic chemical, physical, and biological systems of the planet function – and how human beings are researching them. That is information worth $280 million.

One could do as some have and point to the US$$400 million that NASA was granted in the American stimulus package, specifically for climate change research. One could also point to the fundamental wastefulness and irrelevance of manned spaceflight, given our current problems. Either way, the United States should scrape together the cash for a new satellite, and put it on a more reliable rocket this time.

Morton on the end of the carbon cycle

Golden sunset

Among many other things, Oliver Morton’s Eating the Sun discusses the carbon cycle across extremely long timespans. It highlights the existence of positive and negative feedbacks, which have historically constrained atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide to a particular range: with a high point established though increased emissions from volcanoes, and a low point established through the absorption of atmospheric carbon dioxide through the weathering of rocks.

The book predicts that, on the basis of astronomical and geological factors, this see-saw will eventually come to rest about a billion years from now: with the victory of erosion, and the permanent elimination of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. As a consequence, photosynthesis will cease – for lack of building material – and the energy system that supports all complex life will collapse. Morton dubs this ‘the end of plants’ and the explanation of why it is to occur is difficult to compress into a blog post. It’s one of many reasons for which the book is worthwhile reading.

It’s a sobering perspective: akin to the knowledge that our sun will eventually fail, or that the Second Law of Thermodynamics and a universe expanding without end would combine to produce ‘heat death’ and an end to all chemical reactions everywhere.

That being said, it is essentially impossible for our minds to appreciate the meaning of a billion years, or anticipate how life (and humanity) would change across that span. Long, long before this final descent in the carbon cycle could be approached, we would have ceased to resemble our present forms; indeed, our current forms and future forms might not even be able to comprehend one another. After all, the Cambrian explosion, in which complex life forms like molluscs and crustaceans emerged, happened ‘only’ 530 million years ago.

Of course, even starting to approach that post-human future requires surviving the all-too-human threats we have created for ourselves, with climate change foremost among them. The billion-year carbon bust offers no prospect of avoiding the warming we are creating at the level of years and centuries. What Morton’s long-term perspective does offer, however, is a fairly strong assurance that life can adapt to most any set of climatic circumstances we might be able to create. Of course, ‘life’ writ large is far more adaptable and resilient than our present form of civilization, which may be quite impossible to propagate in a world where temperatures are more than 5˚C higher, on average, glaciers and icecaps are gone, the oceans are acid, and precipitation patterns have changed dramatically.

It is both startling and entirely possible that human civilization, for all its accomplishments, will prove less adept at responding to large-scale changes in climate than ancient sharks or turtles have done.

Climate change on the Globe and Mail wiki

The Globe and Mail has an initiative called Policy Wiki, in which they are trying to foster web discussions on public policy issues of interest to Canadians. The third topic they have selected is climate change. The site includes a briefing note by Mark Jaccard, of the Pembina Institute, and an analysis and proposal by David Suzuki.

Some of the sub-questions to be discussed include:

  1. How closely should Canada’s policies be linked to the US?
  2. Should our focus be bilateral or multilateral?
  3. What position should Canada adopt at the Copenhagen conference?
  4. How does the economic crisis impact actions on climate change?
  5. How will this impact Canadian industry?
  6. How many green jobs can Canada create?
  7. What added responsibility does Canada have as an energy superpower?

Most frequent commenters on this site are quite concerned with Canadian climate policy. As such, this might be an opportunity to discuss the issue with a broader audience. I personally plan to contribute, and would be pleased to see readers doing so as well.

National Geographic on the oil sands

Warning signs

National Geographic has released a feature article on Alberta’s oil sands. It highlights the immense scale of what is going on: geographically, economically, and in terms of water and energy usage:

Nowhere on Earth is more earth being moved these days than in the Athabasca Valley. To extract each barrel of oil from a surface mine, the industry must first cut down the forest, then remove an average of two tons of peat and dirt that lie above the oil sands layer, then two tons of the sand itself. It must heat several barrels of water to strip the bitumen from the sand and upgrade it, and afterward it discharges contaminated water into tailings ponds like the one near Mildred Lake.

In total, the oil sands extent through an area the size of North Carolina – half of which has already been leased by the Alberta Government. That includes all 3500 square kilometres that are currently minable. In exchange, leases and royalties provide 1/3 of government income: estimated at $12 billion this year, despite the fall in oil prices.

The article also discusses some of the toxins leached by the mining operations, their impacts of health, and the inadequate work that has been done to investigate and contain them.

In the end, it is hard to write anything about the oil sands that isn’t damning, unless all it includes is information on the size and economic value of the oil reserves. The article includes a good quote from Simon Dyer, of the Pembina Institute, highlighting how the extraction of the oil sands is a mark of desperation:

Oil sands represent a decision point for North America and the world. Are we going to get serious about alternative energy, or are we going to go down the unconventional-oil track? The fact that we’re willing to move four tons of earth for a single barrel really shows that the world is running out of easy oil.

The solution is not the ever-more-costly and destructive search for new hydrocarbon resources, but rather the eclipsing of the hydrocarbon economy with one based on sustainable energy.

In addition to the article, National Geographic has also produced a flash slideshow of oil sands photographs.

Coen brothers ad on ‘clean coal’

The Coen Brothers – directors of favourite films of mine like The Big Lebowski and O Brother, Where Art Thou? – have made a short advertisement debunking the notion of ‘clean coal.’ It doesn’t have enormously much substantive content, but it does a pretty good job of saying: “Those promising that coal can be clean are lying to you.”

The ad was commissioned by the Reality Coalition.

Good climate policy news: Ontario and the USA

Emily Horn and Morty

I am happy to be able to report on some promising developments, both within my own province and in the giant to the south.

Firstly, the Government of Ontario has tabled a new Green Energy Act. There’s a lot to the 75 page document, but one of the most promising elements is the introduction of feed-in tariffs for renewable generation. Here’s the idea: the bill will make it mandatory for those who own the electrical grid to buy energy from renewable power sources, after connecting them. The price paid for the energy will be set by the province, and it will vary depending on technology, resource intensity, project scale, and location. Tariffs of this kind have been effective at driving renewable deployment in the United States and Germany. The whole bill is online (PDF), as is an executive summary. There is also a guide on what more is required for ratification (PDF). In addition to feed-in tariffs, the bill contains provisions for developing a smart grid, the involvement of First Nations groups, the creation of two funding bodies, and a mandate for conservation. It will also adjust energy pricing (though the issue of how is vague) and streamline the approval process for renewable energy projects.

Secondly, it is worth noting that Obama’s new budget includes projected revenue from a national cap-and-trade system. Grist is discussing it in a three part series: I, II, III. While the projected revenues are low ($83 billion per year by 2020), this is further evidence of the Obama administration’s willingness to move forward on this file.

Carbon pricing and the promotion of renewables are both critical elements of a strong overall climate policy. There is reason to hope that after decades of inaction, things will really start to take off in North America within the next couple of years.

[Update: 2 March 2009] Over at Clean Break, Tyler Hamilton has written a good piece on the Green Energy Act. It includes more analysis than the other coverage I have seen.

Nuclear paper published

The February issue of the St. Antony’s International Review contains my article: “Climate Change, Energy Security, and Nuclear Power.” The article is meant to be an introduction to some of the important issues surrounding nuclear power, energy security, and climate change. It remains an issue that I am agnostic about. It may be that nuclear fission is an important transition technology, useful to smooth the transition to a low-carbon global economy. It may also be that it is a subsidized, dangerous boondoggle and a distraction from superior options.

The full text is available here (PDF). Comments would be appreciated.

Monbiot now conditionally supporting nuclear

Andrea Simms-Karp: camera cyclops

In his book Heat, George Monbiot rejects nuclear fission as a low-carbon source of electricity: arguing that it is unacceptably dangerous, and that we could make do without it. In a recent column on his website, he makes it clear that he has joined the ranks of those willing to reluctantly consider nuclear, on the simple grounds that he is so deeply concerned about climate change.

He does, however, have some conditions:

  1. Its total emissions – from mine to dump – are taken into account
  2. We know exactly how and where the waste is to be buried
  3. We know how much this will cost and who will pay
  4. There is a legal guarantee that no civil nuclear materials will be diverted for military purposes.

The first of these is important, but a fairly low hurdle. If there wasn’t good evidence that the life cycle emissions of nuclear are low (though they are not zero), it wouldn’t be getting the kind of attention it has been. The second matter is mostly a matter of not-in-my-backyard (NIMBY) syndrome. Nobody wants a nuclear waste dump in their area, though everyone knows that a safe dump will basically resemble: a deep and well-sealed hole in some very geologically stable rock. The fourth requirement may be a reasonable bar for states with pre-existing nuclear weapons capability, but it is a bit much to expect from states that lack that capacity and face threatening neighbours. In all likelihood, more civilian nuclear power will mean more states with nuclear weapons, a few decades out.

The third issue is the most uncertain: the cost of nuclear power. Regrettably, no government out there actually has the spine to make polluters pay the true cost of their carbon dioxide emissions. Likewise, no government seems to be willing to forego the political opportunities involved in subsidizing technologies like nuclear fission and carbon capture and storage. In all probability, more nuclear will result in taxpayers and electricity consumers subsidizing the mistakes of governments and energy utilities. It may also produce a clunky, dangerous, and expensive infrastructure that was slower to come online and less effective than focusing on conservation, efficiency, and renewables would have been. All that being said, the inevitable costs may be justified as a precaution. If it does become brilliantly clear to the public that climate change requires urgent action – to the extent that people are willing to accept the rapid decommissioning of coal plants – having nuclear as an option might be an important way to facilitate the route forward. Given the risks of climate change, its low-carbon status may also be worth the inevitable accidents and contamination.

I admit that this is an issue where my thoughts remain divided. That being said, barring some big unforeseen change, I think we can definitely expect to see Canada’s nuclear reactors replaced with new ones, during the next few decades, at the very least. The post later today will provide some further thinking on the issue.