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New scientific interventions are here to fight climate change. But they aren't silver bullets

News Feed
Monday, April 22, 2024

TRACY, Calif. —  Behind a chain-link fence in a nondescript corner of San Joaquin County sits one of California’s — and perhaps the world’s — best hopes for combating climate change. Here at the nation’s first commercial direct air capture facility, towering trays of limestone mineral powder are working round-the-clock to remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Robots skitter and whir around the 40-foot tall columns, which are part of a multi-step process that will ultimately convert the CO2 to concrete, rendering the planet-warming compound into nothing more harmful than a stone. “We need to do this all around the world,” said Vikrum Aiyer, head of public policy for Heirloom, the California-based company that owns and operates the facility. The good news, he said, is that “CO2 removed anywhere is CO2 removed everywhere.” Aggressive and impactful reporting on climate change, the environment, health and science. The idea for their carbon-removal technology was born in the wake of a 2018 special report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, which found that limiting global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius over preindustrial levels will require transformative innovations in energy, land, urban and industrial systems that go beyond national pledges to cut back on emissions. The 1.5-degree limit is an internationally-agreed-upon benchmark intended to prevent the worst effects of climate change. But the planet is already beginning to experience the effects of that warming, including worsening wildfires, simmering oceans, extreme heat waves, prolonged droughts, crop shortages and species loss. Last year was the planet’s hottest on record so far, with the global average temperature hovering around 2.67 degrees — or 1.48 degrees Celsius — warmer than the late 1800s. Maurisha Agustin, a production technician, works inside the 40-foot-tall carbon dioxide extractor. (Paul Kuroda / For The Times) While reducing the use of fossil fuels is the surest way to prevent that warming from getting worse, Aiyer and many other experts, researchers and public officials are converging around the notion that scientific intervention will be necessary. “We need to move fast, and we need more lawmakers to not move at the speed and scale of government, but rather at the speed and scale of our children’s generation, and the next generation, depending on it,” he said.The government is getting on board, however — as is Silicon Valley. The Tracy facility is capable of capturing 1,000 tons of CO2 per year, which will be stored for centuries in concrete that is already being used to build bridges, roads and other local infrastructure. The company makes a profit by selling carbon removal credits to buyers such as Microsoft, Stripe and Klarna, which are investing heavily in the technology.But it will take a lot more than 1,000 tons of annual CO2 removal to make a dent in global warming: Current CO2 levels in the atmosphere are 425 parts per million and counting. To truly make a difference will require carbon removal at the gigaton scale, or billions of tons each year, according to the IPCC. Trays layered with calcium hydroxide are designed to extract carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. (Paul Kuroda / For The Times) Christian Theuer, Heirloom’s policy communications manager, explains how carbon dioxide extraction works. (Paul Kuroda / For The Times) Earlier this year, the U.S. Department of Energy awarded $50 million to Heirloom and its partners to develop what will become a massive, million-ton direct air capture facility in Louisiana. The funding was part of a larger $1.2-billion investment into direct air capture technologies announced by the Biden administration last year. Several Los Angeles startups are also getting into the carbon removal game, including Captura, a company working to remove CO2 from the upper ocean, and Avnos, a company whose technology produces water while capturing carbon. Avnos also recently secured funding from the Department of Energy. The hope is that operating such projects around the country and the world will not only stop global warming, but eventually help reverse it, said Christian Theuer, Heirloom’s policy communications manager.“You halt it by getting to net zero, by not putting out any new CO2 emissions into the atmosphere,” Theuer said as he circled the towers in Tracy. “Then you can move into the negative emissions territory, where you’re cleaning up legacy pollution that is already warming the planet.”But direct air capture is only one of the many ways scientists, policymakers and researchers are hoping to alter the planet’s worrisome trajectory. Solar radiation modification — a form of geoengineering designed to artificially cool the planet — is also being seriously studied as a solution.There are many forms of solar radiation modification, including a concept known as marine cloud brightening, which uses sea salt particles to increase the reflectivity of clouds in order to reflect more sunlight away from Earth. A program run by the University of Washington recently initiated a test of the concept off the coast of San Francisco.But perhaps the most promising — or at least the most studied — geoengineering solution is known as stratospheric aerosol injections. Proposed methods for climate intervention include stratospheric aerosol injections and marine cloud brightening. (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) The basic idea is to manually re-create the process of volcanic eruptions, which cool the planet by spewing sulfur and other particles into the stratosphere, temporarily blocking sunlight. Researchers already know from studying volcanoes that this infusion of sulfur creates a planetary cooling effect that can last two or three years. That and other forms of solar radiation modification are gaining so much attention that last year, the White House released a congressional report on the matter that not only considers its feasibility, but also outlines the urgent need for a framework to govern its research. Solar radiation modification “offers the possibility of cooling the planet significantly on a timescale of a few years,” the report says. “Such cooling would tend to reverse many of the negative consequences of climate change, albeit with ramifications which are now poorly understood.”Indeed, such a concept carries many potential benefits as well as potential risks, according to Chris Field, director of the Woods Institute for the Environment at Stanford University. Field led a major National Academies of Sciences report on solar geoengineering that is reflected in the White House’s findings. Towering structures of fans and trays capture carbon dioxide inside the Heirloom plant in Tracy. (Paul Kuroda / For The Times) “We have a pretty solid understanding that injecting aerosols in the stratosphere would make the average temperature cooler, but you would want to do a lot more than that if you were serious about a deployment of this stuff,” Field said. “You would want to know about the regional effects and you would want to know about the possibility of any unintended consequences outside the climate system. You’d also want to know a lot about what kinds of strategies you would have in place to make this governable.”Last year, a company called Make Sunsets made headlines when it began testing stratospheric aerosol injections by releasing sulfur-filled weather balloons from a launch site in Mexico. The move generated considerable opposition from the scientific community, which said it was too soon to conduct such experiments without more guardrails. An open letter signed by more than 110 physical and biological scientists in the wake of the incident affirmed “the importance of proceeding with responsible research.”Part of the reason for concern is that when sulfur dioxide leaves the stratosphere and sinks into the lower atmosphere, it can potentially fall as acid rain. That doesn’t mean the concept isn’t worth studying, but it does mean transparency about funding, research and results must be made available for broad discussion, Field said. Maurisha Agustin monitors a laptop inside the Heirloom plant. (Paul Kuroda / For The Times) “If it doesn’t have a certain level of public trust — especially in the world’s developing countries — there is essentially no way that it could be deployed and sustained over an extended period,” he said. He added that it is not really possible to design a stratospheric deployment that is limited to one part of the world’s geography, meaning that any injections would have global implications. Critically, Field and other experts said geoengineering should not take the place of decarbonization, or efforts to reduce or eliminate CO2 emissions around the world. California has committed to reaching carbon neutrality by 2045.“There’s no world in which solar geoengineering is a solution to climate change — it’s kind of a Band-Aid so that we don’t experience the full range of impacts of the climate change that’s still there,” Field said. “And it’s really important to recognize that, because it’s just a Band-Aid, we really don’t want it to take attention away from decarbonization.”While direct air capture and aerosol injections do show potential, there are other concepts for cooling the planet that have garnered some interest — or at least raised some eyebrows.A Southern California-based organization called the Planetary Sunshade Foundation has posited that the best solution to climate change isn’t here on Earth, but rather in outer space, where a massive sail-like structure could reflect sunlight away from the planet.“We are on track to continue to see significant increases in global temperature, and so solar radiation modification will continue to be talked about more and more,” said Morgan Goodwin, the foundation’s executive director. “And the planetary sunshade, we believe, is the sustainable, long-term way of doing solar radiation modification.” The sail — or more likely, the collection of sails — would need to measure approximately 580,000 square miles in size to offset 1 degree Celsius of warming, Goodwin said. It would need to be located at the Lagrange 1 Point in space, nearly 1 million miles from Earth — a location where the gravitational pull of the sun and Earth would essentially pin the object in place.The design requirement calls for a material that is thin, light and capable of blocking sunlight. Basically “aluminum foil,” Goodwin said. Offsetting 1 degree Celsius of global warming would require approximately 580,000 square miles of sunshade material nearly 1 million miles from Earth. (Planetary Sunshade Foundation) The result would be shading that is diffuse and spread out evenly across the entire globe. The amount of solar shading — about 1% — would be less than what most people can perceive on Earth, and its effect would be less than what some high-altitude clouds already have on sunlight, he said. The concept is similar to a solar sail spacecraft, forms of which have already been deployed in space. A proposed NASA solar cruiser mission would fly a large solar sail to the Lagrange 1 Point, though the project has stalled due to lack of funding. Goodwin said the Sunshade Foundation is advocating for that mission to fly, and for the U.S. government and other agencies to consider their technological proposals.“There’s so much energy and so many resources in the space sector, and part of what we’re saying is that the space sector can play a role as part of the climate solution,” he said. But like other climate adaptation solutions, there are potential downsides. For one, such a project would be large and expensive, and would require constant upkeep and maintenance when meteorites and space debris impact the sails. What’s more, there are unknown unknowns, such as whether even a small percentage of sunlight reduction could affect photosynthesis and have an adverse impact on agricultural crops. But the idea is more “sustainable and responsible” than other forms of solar radiation modification, Goodwin said, although he stressed that it, too, should not take the place of emissions-reduction efforts.“I feel much more hopeful about the future knowing that I can help advance this and help make this a reality, and give us all a much better shot,” he said. “You know, the future is far from certain, and it will be far stranger than we imagined.” Newsletter Toward a more sustainable California Get Boiling Point, our newsletter exploring climate change, energy and the environment, and become part of the conversation — and the solution. You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times. Back on Earth, the limestone towers are already up and running in Heirloom’s 50,000 square-foot direct air capture facility in Tracy. The process there involves heating limestone in a massive kiln, which turns it into a mineral powder that is spread onto the towering stacks of trays. The powder acts like a sponge for CO2 — pulling it from the air and hardening into a crust. Once saturated, it is returned to the kiln where the CO2 is extracted, and the cycle begins again. The extracted CO2 is transported off site where Heirloom’s partner, CarbonCure Technologies, injects it into recycled water that is used to make concrete that is now being used throughout Bay Area infrastructure. “Once it’s in that concrete, it’s not going back into the atmosphere,” Theuer said of the CO2. “It’s permanently a part of that product. Even if in some scenario you blew up the building associated with it, it would still stay embedded amid the rubble and wouldn’t reenter the atmosphere. It’s now a stone.” The process is different than carbon capture, which involves capturing CO2 at the source where it is emitted. Carbon capture plays a role in the state’s cap-and-trade program, which sets limits on greenhouse gas emissions and allows companies to buy and sell their unused credits. That program has seen mixed results, with some critics saying it ultimately enables more pollution and creates more allowances for emissions. As a commercial operation, Heirloom sells its carbon offsets to a voluntary market at a rate of $600 to $1,000 per net ton, and the company says it does not take investments from oil and gas businesses. Already, some fossil fuel companies have shown interest in direct air capture technology, including at least seven oil and gas producers that have invested in, or are working to develop, direct air capture projects. Aiyer said he is closely watching Senate Bill 308, new legislation in California that would create a framework by which the state government approves standards for carbon removal. It would also compel heavy emitters in the state to account for their emissions through offset purchases or removals, among other measures. But there are potential downsides to direct air capture, including its high energy costs, which could limit the technology’s ability to expand. The Heirloom facility and many others run on 100% renewable energy, including wind and solar power, but experts say fusion and geothermal energy could be potential sources for such technology in the future. And while concrete storage is currently the best available option for carbon sequestration in the U.S., cement is a known contributor to fossil fuel emissions. Heirloom officials said they anticipate transitioning to underground storage wells in the future, pending permitting approval from the Environmental Protection Agency. Geologic storage is already used in parts of Europe, and there are at least 506 billion tons of accessible pore space for permanent CO2 storage in the U.S., they said. What’s more, the interest from Big Oil has met with broader concerns that carbon removal, geoengineering and other climate change solutions could have the unintended consequence of enabling society to continue its reliance on fossil fuels. If these tools can clean CO2 or cool the planet, the logic goes, then the use of gas-guzzling cars, smog-producing products, and oil and gas drilling can continue as usual.It’s a refrain many working in the climate adaptation space have heard before. Still, the steady hum of progress has given even those most entrenched in the battle against global warming some semblance of optimism for the future. “These technologies — whether it is our pathway of direct air capture or other carbon removal technologies — should not be a fig leaf for additional fossil fuel expansion,” Aiyer said. “We need to make sure that we are reducing our reliance on emissions and fossil fuel production, and we need to do these removals.”

Giant sun shades, 40-foot-tall air filters, stratospheric sulfur injections: Here are some of the wild and wondrous ways we might save the planet.

TRACY, Calif. — 

Behind a chain-link fence in a nondescript corner of San Joaquin County sits one of California’s — and perhaps the world’s — best hopes for combating climate change.

Here at the nation’s first commercial direct air capture facility, towering trays of limestone mineral powder are working round-the-clock to remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Robots skitter and whir around the 40-foot tall columns, which are part of a multi-step process that will ultimately convert the CO2 to concrete, rendering the planet-warming compound into nothing more harmful than a stone.

“We need to do this all around the world,” said Vikrum Aiyer, head of public policy for Heirloom, the California-based company that owns and operates the facility. The good news, he said, is that “CO2 removed anywhere is CO2 removed everywhere.”

Aggressive and impactful reporting on climate change, the environment, health and science.

The idea for their carbon-removal technology was born in the wake of a 2018 special report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, which found that limiting global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius over preindustrial levels will require transformative innovations in energy, land, urban and industrial systems that go beyond national pledges to cut back on emissions.

The 1.5-degree limit is an internationally-agreed-upon benchmark intended to prevent the worst effects of climate change. But the planet is already beginning to experience the effects of that warming, including worsening wildfires, simmering oceans, extreme heat waves, prolonged droughts, crop shortages and species loss. Last year was the planet’s hottest on record so far, with the global average temperature hovering around 2.67 degrees — or 1.48 degrees Celsius — warmer than the late 1800s.

A production technician inside a towering structure with fans

Maurisha Agustin, a production technician, works inside the 40-foot-tall carbon dioxide extractor.

(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)

While reducing the use of fossil fuels is the surest way to prevent that warming from getting worse, Aiyer and many other experts, researchers and public officials are converging around the notion that scientific intervention will be necessary.

“We need to move fast, and we need more lawmakers to not move at the speed and scale of government, but rather at the speed and scale of our children’s generation, and the next generation, depending on it,” he said.

The government is getting on board, however — as is Silicon Valley. The Tracy facility is capable of capturing 1,000 tons of CO2 per year, which will be stored for centuries in concrete that is already being used to build bridges, roads and other local infrastructure. The company makes a profit by selling carbon removal credits to buyers such as Microsoft, Stripe and Klarna, which are investing heavily in the technology.

But it will take a lot more than 1,000 tons of annual CO2 removal to make a dent in global warming: Current CO2 levels in the atmosphere are 425 parts per million and counting. To truly make a difference will require carbon removal at the gigaton scale, or billions of tons each year, according to the IPCC.

Trays layered with calcium hydroxide are designed to extract carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.

Trays layered with calcium hydroxide are designed to extract carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.

(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)

A man in a black jacket and blue hard hat stands beside a bank of trays

Christian Theuer, Heirloom’s policy communications manager, explains how carbon dioxide extraction works.

(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)

Earlier this year, the U.S. Department of Energy awarded $50 million to Heirloom and its partners to develop what will become a massive, million-ton direct air capture facility in Louisiana. The funding was part of a larger $1.2-billion investment into direct air capture technologies announced by the Biden administration last year.

Several Los Angeles startups are also getting into the carbon removal game, including Captura, a company working to remove CO2 from the upper ocean, and Avnos, a company whose technology produces water while capturing carbon. Avnos also recently secured funding from the Department of Energy.

The hope is that operating such projects around the country and the world will not only stop global warming, but eventually help reverse it, said Christian Theuer, Heirloom’s policy communications manager.

“You halt it by getting to net zero, by not putting out any new CO2 emissions into the atmosphere,” Theuer said as he circled the towers in Tracy. “Then you can move into the negative emissions territory, where you’re cleaning up legacy pollution that is already warming the planet.”

But direct air capture is only one of the many ways scientists, policymakers and researchers are hoping to alter the planet’s worrisome trajectory. Solar radiation modification — a form of geoengineering designed to artificially cool the planet — is also being seriously studied as a solution.

There are many forms of solar radiation modification, including a concept known as marine cloud brightening, which uses sea salt particles to increase the reflectivity of clouds in order to reflect more sunlight away from Earth. A program run by the University of Washington recently initiated a test of the concept off the coast of San Francisco.

But perhaps the most promising — or at least the most studied — geoengineering solution is known as stratospheric aerosol injections.

Graphic showing proposed methods for climate intervention, including modifying incoming or outgoing solar radiation

Proposed methods for climate intervention include stratospheric aerosol injections and marine cloud brightening.

(National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration)

The basic idea is to manually re-create the process of volcanic eruptions, which cool the planet by spewing sulfur and other particles into the stratosphere, temporarily blocking sunlight. Researchers already know from studying volcanoes that this infusion of sulfur creates a planetary cooling effect that can last two or three years.

That and other forms of solar radiation modification are gaining so much attention that last year, the White House released a congressional report on the matter that not only considers its feasibility, but also outlines the urgent need for a framework to govern its research.

Solar radiation modification “offers the possibility of cooling the planet significantly on a timescale of a few years,” the report says. “Such cooling would tend to reverse many of the negative consequences of climate change, albeit with ramifications which are now poorly understood.”

Indeed, such a concept carries many potential benefits as well as potential risks, according to Chris Field, director of the Woods Institute for the Environment at Stanford University. Field led a major National Academies of Sciences report on solar geoengineering that is reflected in the White House’s findings.

Towering structures of fans and trays that capture carbon dioxide

Towering structures of fans and trays capture carbon dioxide inside the Heirloom plant in Tracy.

(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)

“We have a pretty solid understanding that injecting aerosols in the stratosphere would make the average temperature cooler, but you would want to do a lot more than that if you were serious about a deployment of this stuff,” Field said. “You would want to know about the regional effects and you would want to know about the possibility of any unintended consequences outside the climate system. You’d also want to know a lot about what kinds of strategies you would have in place to make this governable.”

Last year, a company called Make Sunsets made headlines when it began testing stratospheric aerosol injections by releasing sulfur-filled weather balloons from a launch site in Mexico. The move generated considerable opposition from the scientific community, which said it was too soon to conduct such experiments without more guardrails. An open letter signed by more than 110 physical and biological scientists in the wake of the incident affirmed “the importance of proceeding with responsible research.”

Part of the reason for concern is that when sulfur dioxide leaves the stratosphere and sinks into the lower atmosphere, it can potentially fall as acid rain. That doesn’t mean the concept isn’t worth studying, but it does mean transparency about funding, research and results must be made available for broad discussion, Field said.

An Heirloom worker monitors a laptop

Maurisha Agustin monitors a laptop inside the Heirloom plant.

(Paul Kuroda / For The Times)

“If it doesn’t have a certain level of public trust — especially in the world’s developing countries — there is essentially no way that it could be deployed and sustained over an extended period,” he said. He added that it is not really possible to design a stratospheric deployment that is limited to one part of the world’s geography, meaning that any injections would have global implications.

Critically, Field and other experts said geoengineering should not take the place of decarbonization, or efforts to reduce or eliminate CO2 emissions around the world. California has committed to reaching carbon neutrality by 2045.

“There’s no world in which solar geoengineering is a solution to climate change — it’s kind of a Band-Aid so that we don’t experience the full range of impacts of the climate change that’s still there,” Field said. “And it’s really important to recognize that, because it’s just a Band-Aid, we really don’t want it to take attention away from decarbonization.”

While direct air capture and aerosol injections do show potential, there are other concepts for cooling the planet that have garnered some interest — or at least raised some eyebrows.

A Southern California-based organization called the Planetary Sunshade Foundation has posited that the best solution to climate change isn’t here on Earth, but rather in outer space, where a massive sail-like structure could reflect sunlight away from the planet.

“We are on track to continue to see significant increases in global temperature, and so solar radiation modification will continue to be talked about more and more,” said Morgan Goodwin, the foundation’s executive director. “And the planetary sunshade, we believe, is the sustainable, long-term way of doing solar radiation modification.”

The sail — or more likely, the collection of sails — would need to measure approximately 580,000 square miles in size to offset 1 degree Celsius of warming, Goodwin said. It would need to be located at the Lagrange 1 Point in space, nearly 1 million miles from Earth — a location where the gravitational pull of the sun and Earth would essentially pin the object in place.

The design requirement calls for a material that is thin, light and capable of blocking sunlight. Basically “aluminum foil,” Goodwin said.

An illustration of the sun's rays being deflected by a giant sunshade

Offsetting 1 degree Celsius of global warming would require approximately 580,000 square miles of sunshade material nearly 1 million miles from Earth.

(Planetary Sunshade Foundation)

The result would be shading that is diffuse and spread out evenly across the entire globe. The amount of solar shading — about 1% — would be less than what most people can perceive on Earth, and its effect would be less than what some high-altitude clouds already have on sunlight, he said.

The concept is similar to a solar sail spacecraft, forms of which have already been deployed in space. A proposed NASA solar cruiser mission would fly a large solar sail to the Lagrange 1 Point, though the project has stalled due to lack of funding. Goodwin said the Sunshade Foundation is advocating for that mission to fly, and for the U.S. government and other agencies to consider their technological proposals.

“There’s so much energy and so many resources in the space sector, and part of what we’re saying is that the space sector can play a role as part of the climate solution,” he said.

But like other climate adaptation solutions, there are potential downsides. For one, such a project would be large and expensive, and would require constant upkeep and maintenance when meteorites and space debris impact the sails. What’s more, there are unknown unknowns, such as whether even a small percentage of sunlight reduction could affect photosynthesis and have an adverse impact on agricultural crops.

But the idea is more “sustainable and responsible” than other forms of solar radiation modification, Goodwin said, although he stressed that it, too, should not take the place of emissions-reduction efforts.

“I feel much more hopeful about the future knowing that I can help advance this and help make this a reality, and give us all a much better shot,” he said. “You know, the future is far from certain, and it will be far stranger than we imagined.”

Newsletter

Toward a more sustainable California

Get Boiling Point, our newsletter exploring climate change, energy and the environment, and become part of the conversation — and the solution.

You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.

Back on Earth, the limestone towers are already up and running in Heirloom’s 50,000 square-foot direct air capture facility in Tracy.

The process there involves heating limestone in a massive kiln, which turns it into a mineral powder that is spread onto the towering stacks of trays. The powder acts like a sponge for CO2 — pulling it from the air and hardening into a crust. Once saturated, it is returned to the kiln where the CO2 is extracted, and the cycle begins again.

The extracted CO2 is transported off site where Heirloom’s partner, CarbonCure Technologies, injects it into recycled water that is used to make concrete that is now being used throughout Bay Area infrastructure.

“Once it’s in that concrete, it’s not going back into the atmosphere,” Theuer said of the CO2. “It’s permanently a part of that product. Even if in some scenario you blew up the building associated with it, it would still stay embedded amid the rubble and wouldn’t reenter the atmosphere. It’s now a stone.”

The process is different than carbon capture, which involves capturing CO2 at the source where it is emitted. Carbon capture plays a role in the state’s cap-and-trade program, which sets limits on greenhouse gas emissions and allows companies to buy and sell their unused credits. That program has seen mixed results, with some critics saying it ultimately enables more pollution and creates more allowances for emissions.

As a commercial operation, Heirloom sells its carbon offsets to a voluntary market at a rate of $600 to $1,000 per net ton, and the company says it does not take investments from oil and gas businesses. Already, some fossil fuel companies have shown interest in direct air capture technology, including at least seven oil and gas producers that have invested in, or are working to develop, direct air capture projects.

Aiyer said he is closely watching Senate Bill 308, new legislation in California that would create a framework by which the state government approves standards for carbon removal. It would also compel heavy emitters in the state to account for their emissions through offset purchases or removals, among other measures.

But there are potential downsides to direct air capture, including its high energy costs, which could limit the technology’s ability to expand. The Heirloom facility and many others run on 100% renewable energy, including wind and solar power, but experts say fusion and geothermal energy could be potential sources for such technology in the future.

And while concrete storage is currently the best available option for carbon sequestration in the U.S., cement is a known contributor to fossil fuel emissions. Heirloom officials said they anticipate transitioning to underground storage wells in the future, pending permitting approval from the Environmental Protection Agency. Geologic storage is already used in parts of Europe, and there are at least 506 billion tons of accessible pore space for permanent CO2 storage in the U.S., they said.

What’s more, the interest from Big Oil has met with broader concerns that carbon removal, geoengineering and other climate change solutions could have the unintended consequence of enabling society to continue its reliance on fossil fuels. If these tools can clean CO2 or cool the planet, the logic goes, then the use of gas-guzzling cars, smog-producing products, and oil and gas drilling can continue as usual.

It’s a refrain many working in the climate adaptation space have heard before. Still, the steady hum of progress has given even those most entrenched in the battle against global warming some semblance of optimism for the future.

“These technologies — whether it is our pathway of direct air capture or other carbon removal technologies — should not be a fig leaf for additional fossil fuel expansion,” Aiyer said. “We need to make sure that we are reducing our reliance on emissions and fossil fuel production, and we need to do these removals.”

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

Virginia Offshore Wind Developer Sues Over Trump Administration Order Halting Projects

The developers of a Virginia offshore wind project are asking a federal judge to block a Trump administration order that halted construction of their project, along with four others, over national security concerns

Dominion Energy Virginia said in its lawsuit filed late Tuesday that the government's order is “arbitrary and capricious” and unconstitutional. The Richmond-based company is developing Coastal Virginia Offshore Wind, a project it says is essential to meet dramatically growing energy needs driven by dozens of new data centers.The Interior Department did not detail the security concerns in blocking the five projects on Monday. In a letter to project developers, Interior's Bureau of Ocean Energy Management set a 90-day period — and possibly longer — “to determine whether the national security threats posed by this project can be adequately mitigated.”The other projects are the Vineyard Wind project under construction in Massachusetts, Revolution Wind in Rhode Island and Connecticut and two projects in New York: Sunrise Wind and Empire Wind. Democratic governors in those states have vowed to fight the order, the latest action by the Trump administration to hobble offshore wind in its push against renewable energy sources. Dominion's project has been under construction since early 2024 and was scheduled to come online early next year, providing enough energy to power about 660,000 homes. The company said the delay was costing it more than $5 million a day in losses solely for the ships used in round-the-clock construction, and that customers or the company would eventually bear the cost.Dominion called this week's order “the latest in a series of irrational agency actions attacking offshore wind and then doubling down when those actions are found unlawful.” The Bureau of Ocean Energy Management didn't immediately respond to an email seeking comment.U.S. District Judge Jamar Walker set a hearing for 2 p.m. Monday on Dominion's request for a temporary restraining order.The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – December 2025

The World Has Laws About Land and Sea, But Not About Ice

As the Arctic melts and people spend more time there, defining our relationship to sea ice becomes more necessary.

When the Chinese cargo freighter Istanbul Bridge set sail for Europe in late September, it took an unusual route. Instead of heading south for the 40-day voyage through the Suez Canal, it tacked north. The freighter arrived in the United Kingdom at the port of Felixstowe just 20 days later—successfully launching the first-ever Arctic commercial-container route from Asia to Europe.For most of human history, the surface of the world’s northernmost ocean has been largely frozen. Now scientists predict that most of the Arctic Ocean’s 6.1 million square miles may be seasonally ice-free as soon as 2050. Economically, a less icy Arctic spells opportunity—new shipping routes and untapped fossil-fuel reserves. Climatologically, it’s a calamity. Legally, it’s a problem that has to be solved.  Much of the ocean’s center, the northernmost stretch surrounding the pole, will be subject to the lawlessness of the high seas—which will become a problem as more ships try to navigate a mushy mix of water and sea ice. And although the Arctic is the world’s fastest-warming region, and contains its most rapidly acidifiying ocean, it has few environmental protections. Scientists don’t have a clear idea of which species might need defending, or of the climate effects of unbridled shipping. (Ships puff black carbon, which reduces ice reflectivity and, in the short term, causes up to 1,500 times more warming than carbon dioxide.)In October, the United Nation’s special envoy for the ocean, Peter Thomson, called for countries to agree to a “precautionary pause on new economic activities in the Central Arctic Ocean” to buy time to study the climate and environmental risks of increased activity. Others are asking for an agreement akin to the 2020 Artemis Accords, which committed 59 nations to the “peaceful” and “sustainable” exploration of space. But some polar-law scholars argue that curbing climate catastrophe may require a more radical reimagining: to make sea ice a legal person.For centuries of seafaring, ice was an obstacle blocking people out, not an environment anyone thought to protect. Even in the Arctic, “we have laws about the land, we have the Law of the Sea, but we don’t have laws about ice,” Apostolos Tsiouvalas, a postdoctoral researcher with the Arctic University of Norway, told me. Because dealing with ice hasn’t been a major concern, even for the five nations that border the Arctic, and because ice is always transforming, its place in the law is confused at best.In many cases, solid ice extending from a coastline has been treated as legal land, and ice carried by a current has been considered water. During the Cold War, both Russia and the United States maintained scientific “drift stations” on detached ice floes. In 1970, when a shooting occurred on one American station, several nations debated where, exactly, the crime took place. Was the ice Canadian, because it likely calved from a glacier on Canada’s coast? Was it an American island? After some back-and-forth, the vessel-size chunk of ice legally transformed—by no small imaginative leap—into an American ship.The so-called Arctic Exception of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea does extend states’ rights to impose laws far from the coastline, in areas that are ice-covered for most of the year. The point was for Arctic states to help prevent accidents and pollution, but states have since used the exception to extend their geographical sovereignty. But the term ice-covered complicates these claims. How much ice means “covered”? Are we talking uncrossably frozen, or just a few drifting bits?That’s the problem with regulating icy regions: Even if these cryo-categories were more formalized, none would apply for very long. A large majority of Arctic ice is sea ice, which forms on ocean surfaces when salt water freezes. (It’s distinct from icebergs, which calve from landbound glaciers.) Human activity may have accelerated its melt, but sea ice was already one of the planet’s most dynamic systems, its surface area fluctuating by millions of miles season to season. It’s always either melting or freezing, and as it melts, its fragments can travel hundreds of miles along waves and currents.In an article published this month in the journal The Yearbook of Polar Law, Tsiouvalas and his co-authors, Mana Tugend and Romain Chuffart, argue that piecemeal updates to current laws simply will never keep up with this fast-changing and threatened environment. Future governance of sea ice will require a transformation of some sort, and they argue that the clearest path forward is to bring the rights-of-nature movement to the high north.  Since Ecuador’s landmark 2008 constitutional protection of nature, Bolivia, India, New Zealand, and other countries across the world have made natural entities legal persons, or otherwise given them inviolable rights. The UCLA Law professor James Salzman, who has taught a class on nature’s rights, told me that this idea does not represent a single legal framework but that it does answer what he calls the “Lorax problem” of environmental law, referring to the Dr. Seuss character who claims to “speak for the trees.” Granting a voiceless entity legal personhood provides it with a representative to argue on its behalf.With this designation, Tsiouvalas and his co-authors note, sea ice would get the highest legal status possible. In many cases, environmental protections can be bent to accommodate other, conflicting benefits to human society. But personhood grants an inherent right to exist that can’t be superseded. The new paper is mostly an ethical exploration and, the authors acknowledge, still just a stepping stone to more concrete regulations, but granting ice rights would create firmer standing to, for example, keep ships out of areas that humanity might otherwise want to use. The authors also note that rethinking sea ice’s status could include Indigenous people who have been routinely excluded from decisions around Arctic sovereignty and whose millennia of living on and with ice could guide its future governance.But Sara Olsvig, the chair of the Inuit Circumpolar Council, told me recently that the legal interest in Arctic rights of nature is a “worrying development.” To Olsvig, the phrase rights of nature itself implies some separate concept of nature that doesn’t exist for the Inuit. And in the past, the environmentalist movement has elevated its idea of “nature” above the interests of Indigenous people. Decades-long bans against whale and seal hunting, for instance, devastated the cultural continuity and health of Inuit in the far north.To answer such concerns, any legal right granted needs to be very clear about the duties that follow, Salzman said: If sea ice has a right to not be harmed, what constitutes “harm”? Would that mean blocking all human interference with the ice, or merely banning fuels that emit black carbon? After all, the major threat to sea ice—global emissions—“is not something that can be locally managed,” Salzman pointed out, and so far, natural resources have obtained legal personhood only in a national context. Rights for sea ice would require international agreement, which could be not only harder to achieve but harder to enforce. Sara Ross, an associate law professor at Dalhousie University, in Canada, told me that, in her view, legal personhood granted via international treaty would be too dependent on goodwill agreements to be effective.But in some ways, legal personhood for nonhumans is an old idea, Ross said. Most countries grant it to corporations, and in the United States and Commonwealth countries, it’s typical for ships too. She especially likes the ship comparison, because—as maritime law has already discovered—floating pieces of ice aren’t so dissimilar. She imagines a more circumscribed role for sea-ice personhood, connected to, say, setting standards that ban icebreaking or heavy fuel emissions in icy areas. If these mandates are violated, local Inuit communities would have the power to sue on behalf of the ice—whether or not they could prove how much one particular ship degraded one particular stretch of ice. Without some legal protections put in place, the sea ice will soon disappear that much faster. In October, the U.S. bought new icebreaking ships from Finland and undermined an International Maritime Organization agreement that would have had shipowners pay a fee for the greenhouse gases their vessels emit. The next week, just after the conclusion of the Istanbul Bridge’s voyage, Russia and China made a formal agreement to co-develop the Northern Sea Route that the ship had followed. If summer sea ice disappears entirely, scientists predict accelerated catastrophe—leaps in temperature, more frequent and stronger storms, global sea-level rise—which will threaten the planet’s general livability. “The fact that we need sea ice to survive is not a rights-of-nature argument,” Salzman said. “But it’s still a pretty good case to make.”

Neil Frank, Former Hurricane Center Chief Who Improved Public Outreach on Storms, Has Died

Neil Frank, a former head of the National Hurricane Center credited with working to increase the country’s readiness for major storms, has died

Neil Frank, a former head of the National Hurricane Center credited with increasing the country's readiness for major storms, died Wednesday. He was 94.Frank led the hurricane center from 1974 to 1987, the longest-serving director in its history.“He gets tremendous credit for the being the first one to go out of his way and reach out and make the connection between the National Hurricane Center and the emergency managers,” said meteorologist Max Mayfield, who served as the hurricane center's director from 2000-2007. “He taught me that it’s not all about the forecast,” Mayfield said. “A perfect forecast is no good if people don’t take immediate action.”Frank’s son, Ron Frank, said in a Facebook post that his father died at home a few days after going into hospice care.KHOU-TV in Houston, where Frank spent two decades as chief meteorologist after leaving the hurricane center, first reported his death. The station referred an Associated Press call for comment to CBS, whose spokeswoman declined comment but directed the AP to Ron Frank’s post.When Frank started at the National Hurricane Center, advances with weather satellites were helping forecasters to better predict the location and direction of a storm. Frank worked to make that information more accessible to residents in hurricane-vulnerable areas, said Mayfield. He also regularly appeared on television to give updates on storms and advice on staying safe.“He was so passionate and you could just feel his enthusiasm but also sense of warning — that he wanted people to take action,” Mayfield said. “He was very animated, spoke with his hands a lot. And if you’d play it on fast-forward, he’d look like a juggler sometimes.”Frank was skeptical that human actions, such as the burning of oil, gas and coal, cause climate change, Mayfield said. In a video posted to YouTube titled “Is Climate Change Real?” he instead attributed warming to the planet’s natural and cyclical weather patterns. Scientists today overwhelmingly agree that burning of fossil fuels is the primary driver of planet-warming emissions that are causing more frequent, costly and deadly extreme weather around the world.The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – December 2025

Seven books to help you work through the climate anxiety you developed in 2025

With the holiday travel season ramping up, a good book is a must-have for airport delays or to give as the perfect gift.

With the holiday travel season ramping up, a good book is a must-have for airport delays or to give as the perfect gift.Journalists from Bloomberg Green picked seven climate and environmental books they loved despite their weighty content. A few were positively uplifting. Here are our recommendations.Fiction“What We Can Know” by Ian McEwanIt’s 2119, decades after the Derangement (cascading climate catastrophes), the Inundation (a global tsunami triggered by a Russian nuclear bomb) and artificial intelligence-launched wars have halved the world’s population. The U.S. is no more and the U.K. is an impoverished archipelago of tiny islands where scholar Tom Metcalfe embarks on an obsessive quest to find the only copy of a renowned 21st century poem that was never published.The famous author of the ode to now-vanished English landscapes recited it once at a dinner party in 2014 as a gift to his wife, but its words remain lost to time. Metcalfe believes access to the previously hidden digital lives of the poet and his circle will lead him to the manuscript. He knows where to start his search: Thanks to Nigeria — the 22nd century’s superpower — the historical internet has been decrypted and archived, including every personal email, text, photo and video.The truth, though, lies elsewhere. It’s a richly told tale of our deranged present — and where it may lead without course correction. — Todd Woody“Greenwood” by Michael ChristieThis likewise dystopian novel begins in 2038 with Jacinda Greenwood, a dendrologist turned tour guide for the ultra-wealthy, working in one of the world’s last remaining forests. But the novel zig-zags back to 1934 and the beginnings of a timber empire that divided her family for generations.For more than a century, the Greenwoods’ lives and fates were entwined with the trees they fought to exploit or protect. The novel explores themes of ancestral sin and atonement against the backdrop of the forests, which stand as silent witnesses to human crimes enacted on a global scale. — Danielle Bochove“Barkskins” by Annie ProulxAnother multigenerational saga, spanning more than three centuries and 700 pages, this 2016 novel by a Pulitzer Prize-winning author tracks the deforestation of the New World over 300 years, beginning in the 17th century.Following the descendants of two immigrants to what will become modern-day Quebec, the story takes the reader on a global voyage, crisscrossing North America, visiting the Amsterdam coffee houses that served as hubs for the Dutch mercantile empire and following new trade routes from China to New Zealand. Along the way, it chronicles the exploitation of the forests, the impact on Indigenous communities and the lasting legacy of colonialism.With a vast cast of characters, the novel is at times unwieldy. But the staggering descriptions of Old World forests and the incredible human effort required to destroy them linger long after the saga concludes. —Danielle BochoveNonfiction“The Joyful Environmentalist: How to Practise Without Preaching” by Isabel LosadaIt is hard for a committed environmentalist to feel cheerful these days. But Isabel Losada’s book encourages readers to undertake a seemingly impossible mission: finding delight in navigating the absurd situations that committed environmentalists inevitably face, rather than succumbing to frustration.Those delights can be as simple as looking up eco-friendly homemade shampoo formulas on Instagram or crushing a bucket of berries for seed collection to help restore native plants.The book itself is an enjoyable read. With vivid details and a dose of British humor, Losada relays her failed attempt to have lunch at a Whole Foods store without using its disposable plastic cutlery. (The solution? Bring your own metal fork.) To be sure, some advice in her book isn’t realistic for everyone. But there are plenty of practical tips, such as deleting old and unwanted emails to help reduce the energy usage of data centers that store them. This book is an important reminder that you can protect the environment joyfully.— Coco Liu“Breakneck: China’s Quest to Engineer the Future” by Dan WangChina’s President Xi Jinping is a trained engineer, and so are many members of the country’s top leadership. Dan Wang writes about how that training shows up in the country’s relentless push to build, build and build. That includes a clean tech industry that leads the world in almost every conceivable category, though Wang explores other domains as well.Born in China, Wang grew up in Canada and studied in the U.S. before going back to live in his native country from 2017 to 2023. That background helps his analysis land with more gravity in 2025, as the U.S. and China face off in a battle of fossil fuels versus clean tech. — Akshat Rathi“Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds and Shape Our Futures” by Merlin SheldrakeA JP Morgan banker might seem an unlikely character in a book about fungi. But R. Gordon Wasson, who popularized the main compound found in “magic mushrooms” with a 1957 article in Life magazine, is only one of the delightful surprises in Merlin Sheldrake’s offbeat book. The author’s dedication to telling the tale of fungi includes literally getting his hands dirty, unearthing complex underground fungal networks, and engaging in self-experimentation by participating in a scientific study of the effects of LSD on the brain. The result is a book that reveals the complexity and interdependency of life on Earth, and the role we play in it.“We humans became as clever as we are, so the argument goes, because we were entangled within a demanding flurry of interaction,” Sheldrake writes. Fungi, a lifeform that depends on its interrelatedness with everything else, might have more in common with us than we realize. — Olivia Rudgard“Toms River: A Story of Science and Salvation” by Dan FaginWhen chemical manufacturer Ciba arrived in Toms River, N.J., in 1952, the company’s new plant seemed like the economic engine the sleepy coastal community dependent on fishing and tourism had always needed. But the plant soon began quietly dumping millions of gallons of chemical-laced waste into the town’s eponymous river and surrounding woods. That started a legacy of toxic pollution that left families asking whether the waste was the cause of unusually high rates of childhood cancer in the area.This Pulitzer Prize-winning masterpiece of environmental journalism reads like a thriller, albeit with devastating real-world fallout. It also shows how companies can reinvent themselves: I was startled to learn that Ciba, later known as Ciba-Geigy, merged with another company in 1996 to become the pharmaceutical company Novartis. At a time when there’s been a push to relocate manufacturing from abroad back to the U.S., this is a worthy examination of the hidden costs that can accompany industrial growth. — Emma CourtBochove, Woody, Liu, Court, Rudgard and Rathi write for Bloomberg.

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