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See 11 Winning Images From the Astronomy Photographer of the Year Contest That Showcase the Wonder of Space

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Friday, September 13, 2024

Images of the sky, stars and galaxies have the ability to strike wonder and awe. The Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition captures that awe by showcasing some of the best images in astrophotography as amateur and professional photographers alike vie for a £10,000 ($13,000) grand prize. Now in its 16th year, the contest drew in more than 3,500 entries from photographers representing 58 countries this time around. Hosted by the Royal Observatory Greenwich, it is the largest astrophotography competition in the world—and the observatory released the winners of its 2024 contest in an online ceremony Thursday. This year’s contest featured multiple categories: our sun; our moon; galaxies; auroras; planets, comets and asteroids; people and space; stars and nebulas; and skyscapes. The judges also handed out a few special awards that recognized astrophotography newbies, young photographers and image innovation, which requires merging open source data with space-related images. The overall winner, Ryan Imperio, came from the “our sun” category and depicted Baily’s beads during the 2023 annular solar eclipse. Tom Williams was able to win in two separate categories, securing the top image in both “people and space,” as well as “planets, comets and asteroids.” “An abundance of astonishing works flood to us, and it is a joy to see what the world’s best astrophotographers are producing,” says Ed Bloomer, an astronomer at Royal Observatory Greenwich, in a statement. “It really is true that choosing the winners is a long process, and heavily debated amongst the panel.” An exhibition featuring the winning photographs, alongside a selection of shortlisted images that were announced earlier this year, opened at the National Maritime Museum in the United Kingdom on September 13. Below are the breathtaking winners, capturing in great detail the otherworldly beauty of space. Distorted Shadows of the Moon’s Surface by Ryan Imperio In this contest-winning time-lapse shot, the moon travels across the face of the sun, revealing the progression of Baily’s beads during the 2023 annular solar eclipse. © Ryan Imperio This overall winning image was taken during the 2023 annular solar eclipse that traced a path over the Americas. Astrophotographer Ryan Imperio of the United States put together this sequence of continuously captured images showing the progression of a phenomenon called Baily’s beads. When the moon’s edge aligns with the sun’s during a solar eclipse, its rugged topography of mountains and valleys allows sunlight to shine through unevenly. The resulting beads of light are called Baily’s beads. Here, the Baily’s beads break the ring of sunlight to form the illusion of black streaks. A glowing “Ring of Fire” also appears on the left side of the striking image. Since the moon does not completely cover the sun in an annular eclipse, it results in a ring of light glowing around the moon. Imperio describes how he captured the contest-winning shot: “Representing approximately ten seconds, the stacked sequence was shot at three frames per second and, starting on the left, includes the Ring of Fire at maximum annularity,” or the peak of the eclipse, he says in a catalog of the winners sent to Smithsonian magazine. “As the sequence progresses, a sort of exaggerated projection is created of the moon’s rough topography, allowing the viewer to appreciate the distorted lunar peaks and valleys.” Queenstown Aurora by Larryn Rae The pink hue of the southern lights shines over mountains, as captured in Queensland, New Zealand, in this winning image from the auroras category. © Larryn Rae The Aurora Australis, or southern lights, illuminate the sky over the mountains of Queenstown, New Zealand. Given the popularity of photographing the northern lights, this category winner was just one of two shortlisted aurora photos taken in the Southern Hemisphere. The vivid red colors of this aurora are rarer than green auroras, because these are produced at high altitudes. When charged particles from the sun energize atoms of gas in the Earth’s atmosphere, the excess energy gets released as light in brilliant auroras. The sun launches those particles in a phenomenon known as a coronal mass ejection (CME), when its outer atmosphere ejects magnetic fields and plasma mass into space. Larryn Rae of New Zealand describes how his image was put together: “It is a 19-image panorama capturing all of the fast-moving beams that lit up the sky. … My astro-modified camera caught all the pink hues of the aurora beams.” The composition also came together with a bit of luck. “The aurora came out of nowhere, and I was the only person there to capture the surprise display.” Shadow Peaks of Sinus Iridum by Gábor Balázs A close-up shot of the moon captures a flat plain known as Sinus Iridum, as well as the crater Pythagoras, which is visible because of a wobbling phenomenon called libration. The image won the contest's category for our moon. © Gábor Balázs Captured by Gábor Balázs of Hungary, this image shows a large lunar crater called Sinus Iridum, also known as the ‘Bay of Rainbows,’ which stretches approximately 150 miles in diameter. The surrounding Montes Jura mountain range casts spiky shadows into the crater. This detailed photograph reveals how the bay is surrounded by several smaller craters, showcasing the moon’s rugged terrain. In the top right corner lies the crater Pythagoras, which is noted by astronomers for its depth and complex geological features. Earth-bound viewers can only see one side of the moon, but a phenomenon called “libration,” in which the moon slightly oscillates, allows astronomers to see approximately 59 percent of the satellite’s total surface. This photograph includes glimpses of areas that are typically out of view because libration caused them to wobble toward the Earth. One of the competition’s judges, Yuri Beletsky, an astronomer and award-winning photographer in his own right, stated about this capture: “This image not only highlights the capabilities of modern astrophotography equipment but also offers a vivid illustration of lunar surface features, contributing valuable insights into lunar geology.” Echoes of the Past by Bence Tóth Galaxy NGC 5128, the fifth brightest galaxy as seen from Earth, won the category for galaxies. © Bence Tóth, Péter Feltóti A shot of galaxy NGC 5128, also known as Centaurus A, took home the prize in the galaxies category. At the center is a visualization of a powerful jet of radiation and particles known as a relativistic jet. Moving at close to the speed of light, the jet serves as an indicator of a supermassive black hole. Centaurus A is the closest radio galaxy to Earth, meaning it emits a large amount of radio waves. Centaurus A is the fifth brightest galaxy in the sky and can only be seen in the Southern Hemisphere. Bence Tóth of Hungary describes how he and Péter Feltóti got the shot: “We captured the image data in parallel with two astrophotography setups and processed the final image from all the data.” “This galaxy has quite a violent past due to several galaxy merging events. One of the main goals was to show how these disrupting events shaped the galaxy, as the shockwaves are propagated through the entire disc,” he adds. “The other target was to show the relativistic jet, the tell-tale sign of the supermassive black hole at the center.” High Tech Silhouette by Tom Williams The International Space Station creates a silhouette above the sun's active surface as it speeds around the Earth. This image won the contest's people and space category. © Tom Williams Tom Williams of the United Kingdom captured this moment as the International Space Station transited in front of the surface of the sun. He describes the discipline and accuracy needed to get this detailed image: “Crossing the field of view in just 0.2 seconds, these ISS transits of the sun are particularly rare for any one location on Earth.” The International Space Station is the largest space station ever built, maintaining an orbit with an average altitude of 250 miles. The station makes 16 orbits of the Earth per day, meaning its astronauts experience 16 sunrises and sunsets daily. It travels at a rapid five miles per second, emphasizing the precision needed to get this photo. Williams’ image also showcases the dynamic and active nature of the sun. A large, bright, extruding solar prominence extends out from the star near the station’s transit location, making this shot extra special. “Luckily weather conditions were great, and the sun was very lively at the time,” the photographer adds. “After many days of planning, it was a treat to have it all come to fruition.” On Approach by Tom Williams Venus, seen in three views as it approaches a conjunction with Earth and the sun, won the planets, comets and asteroids category. © Tom Williams The above image shows the phases of Venus as it approaches to pass between the Earth and sun. Whenever a planet sits directly between the sun and Earth, this is referred to as an inferior conjunction. Such an alignment occurs with Venus occurs every 19.5 months. Venus is a breathtaking, unique planet. It spins slowly in the opposite direction from most planets in our solar system. And as the closest planet to Earth, the highly reflective Venus is the third brightest object in the sky, after only the sun and moon. However, the reflectivity of its clouds makes conventional imaging methods difficult. “This makes UV imaging of Venus particularly interesting as the planet is much more dynamic than it would be if viewed in the visible spectrum,” Williams notes. He used ultraviolet and infrared filters to reveal the intricacies of cloud structures within the planet’s upper atmosphere, represented by added colors in the image that resemble the planet’s natural hue. Tasman Gems by Tom Rae Stars, nebulas and galaxies illuminate the night sky over the Tasman Valley in New Zealand. This image won the contest's skyscapes category. © Tom Rae The rugged peaks of New Zealand’s Tasman Valley stretch upward toward an array of celestial features in the Southern Hemisphere’s summer night sky. At the center, the red regions are hydrogen clouds of the Gum Nebula, the largest emission nebula in the sky, spanning the width of 72 full moons. Despite its size, the Gum Nebula was unknown before 1955 due to its faintness. This shot also features other regions in the Milky Way that aren’t photographed very frequently given their low brightness. In the top right side of the frame are the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds, which are two irregular dwarf galaxies that orbit the Milky Way. Additionally, the bright stars Sirius and Canopus can be seen in the center of the image. Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, lies in the Canis Major constellation. Canopus is part of the constellation Carina and is the second-brightest star seen from the Southern Hemisphere. On the left of the image, you can see the Orion constellation with its characteristic three-star belt. “It’s very challenging to create this sort of composition without tipping the balance in favor of either foreground or background,” says contest judge Bloomer. “As well as being technically impressive, the balance also produces a surreal quality. A slightly dream-like connection between the Earth-bound and the celestial.” SNR G107.5-5.2 Unexpected Discovery (The Nereides Nebula in Cassiopeia) by Marcel Drechsler, Bray Falls, Yann Sainty, Nicolas Martino and Richard Galli In this winning image from the stars and nebulas category, the remnants from a gigantic supernova form wispy rings at the center of the Cassiopeia constellation. © Marcel Drechsler, Bray Falls, Yann Sainty, Nicolas Martino, Richard Galli “A new supernova remnant right at our doorstep!” writes the team of five photographers who captured this image. “One team, 3,559 frames, 260 hours of exposure time, telescopes on three continents and one goal—not only to explore a supernova remnant that has not yet been discovered by science, but also to photograph it in an ambitious joint project.” This gigantic supernova remnant in the resulting image is a lingering structure left over from the explosion of a star, featuring shock waves and filled with ejected materials from the blast. The team of photographers discovered this remnant, which stretches across a wide expanse of the night sky the size of six full moons. It was a surprise find, considering it lies in the center of the famous constellation Cassiopeia, known for its “W” shape formed by five bright stars. “Who knew this fantastic and delicate structure was there all along in one of the best-known constellations in the night sky?” says contest judge Steve Marsh, the art editor for BBC Sky at Night Magazine. The clever coloring specifically wowed judges as it illuminated the structure’s details. Even more impressively, the team that made this miraculous discovery consisted of amateur astronomers, demonstrating the remarkable impact amateurs can have on the field. SH2-308: Dolphin Head Nebula by Xin Feng and Miao Gong The Dolphin Head Nebula appears as a blue bubble in this image that won the Sir Patrick Moore Prize for Best Newcomer. © Xin Feng, Miao Gong Xin Feng and Miao Gong of China took home the award for the best newcomer image, which features the charming SH2-308, commonly known as the Dolphin Head Nebula. The bubble of ionized atomic hydrogen was pushed out from a very luminous Wolf-Rayet star. Wolf-Rayet stars are at an advanced stage in the stellar life cycle and have a high rate of mass loss. Around the Dolphin Head Nebula, stellar winds, or gas ejected from the star’s upper atmosphere, can reach over 3.3 million miles per hour, making the region lively. Feng and Gong note the nebula “is at a low angle and can only be shot for five hours a day. … This image comprises a total of ten days of shooting and post-processing.” NGC 1499, A Dusty California by Daniele Borsari The California Nebula emits ionized gasses to form a long, reddish-pink shape. Captured by a 14-year-old photographer, the image won the young astrophotographer category. © Daniele Borsari Fourteen-year-old Daniele Borsari of Italy captured the above image of the emission nebula NGC 1499, also known as the California Nebula for its resemblance to the elongated shape of the state. An emission nebula is a cloud of ionized gasses that glows, typically in red, due to being heated by nearby stars. This nebula is just about 1,000 light-years from Earth in the constellation Perseus. Borsari captures the nebula’s shape beautifully, demonstrating the promise of young astrophotography talent, per the contest judges. “This incredibly beautiful image… captures a nebula, atmospheric gasses and has extraordinary balance of light, composition and structure,” says judge Neal White, a researcher of contemporary art and science at the University of Westminster in England. “The future of astronomy photography being fearlessly, and openly, taken forward by a new generation.” Anatomy of a Habitable Planet by Sergio Díaz Ruiz This visualization of Earth’s global atmospheric conditions, based on satellite data, won the Annie Maunder Prize for Image Innovation. © Sergio Díaz Ruiz Spanish photographer Sergio Díaz Ruiz creates a shocking depiction of a world plagued by impending global catastrophes, despite having intelligent life forms. What planet is this? Our Earth. Various colors represent data captured by the GOES-18 weather satellite, denoting landmasses, oceans and atmospheric features. Combined with a map of artificial lights at night, the image shows Earth as an alien civilization might view and study it. The image evokes the pressing need for climate action to manage greenhouse gas emissions and other atmospheric risks to humankind. As judge Victoria Lane, senior curator of art and identity at Royal Museums Greenwich, aptly writes, “the image poignantly emphasizes the significant environmental challenges we face and the urgent need to protect and preserve our planet.” Get the latest stories in your inbox every weekday.

From a solar eclipse to a dolphin-like nebula, these otherworldly sights are captured in sharp detail by astrophotographers from around the world

Images of the sky, stars and galaxies have the ability to strike wonder and awe.

The Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition captures that awe by showcasing some of the best images in astrophotography as amateur and professional photographers alike vie for a £10,000 ($13,000) grand prize.

Now in its 16th year, the contest drew in more than 3,500 entries from photographers representing 58 countries this time around. Hosted by the Royal Observatory Greenwich, it is the largest astrophotography competition in the world—and the observatory released the winners of its 2024 contest in an online ceremony Thursday.

This year’s contest featured multiple categories: our sun; our moon; galaxies; auroras; planets, comets and asteroids; people and space; stars and nebulas; and skyscapes. The judges also handed out a few special awards that recognized astrophotography newbies, young photographers and image innovation, which requires merging open source data with space-related images.

The overall winner, Ryan Imperio, came from the “our sun” category and depicted Baily’s beads during the 2023 annular solar eclipse. Tom Williams was able to win in two separate categories, securing the top image in both “people and space,” as well as “planets, comets and asteroids.”

“An abundance of astonishing works flood to us, and it is a joy to see what the world’s best astrophotographers are producing,” says Ed Bloomer, an astronomer at Royal Observatory Greenwich, in a statement. “It really is true that choosing the winners is a long process, and heavily debated amongst the panel.”

An exhibition featuring the winning photographs, alongside a selection of shortlisted images that were announced earlier this year, opened at the National Maritime Museum in the United Kingdom on September 13.

Below are the breathtaking winners, capturing in great detail the otherworldly beauty of space.

Distorted Shadows of the Moon’s Surface by Ryan Imperio

A time-lapsed picture of the moon covering the sun shows thin glowing gold rings emanating out from the dark moon at the left, with dark streaks through them
In this contest-winning time-lapse shot, the moon travels across the face of the sun, revealing the progression of Baily’s beads during the 2023 annular solar eclipse. © Ryan Imperio

This overall winning image was taken during the 2023 annular solar eclipse that traced a path over the Americas. Astrophotographer Ryan Imperio of the United States put together this sequence of continuously captured images showing the progression of a phenomenon called Baily’s beads.

When the moon’s edge aligns with the sun’s during a solar eclipse, its rugged topography of mountains and valleys allows sunlight to shine through unevenly. The resulting beads of light are called Baily’s beads. Here, the Baily’s beads break the ring of sunlight to form the illusion of black streaks.

A glowing “Ring of Fire” also appears on the left side of the striking image. Since the moon does not completely cover the sun in an annular eclipse, it results in a ring of light glowing around the moon.

Imperio describes how he captured the contest-winning shot: “Representing approximately ten seconds, the stacked sequence was shot at three frames per second and, starting on the left, includes the Ring of Fire at maximum annularity,” or the peak of the eclipse, he says in a catalog of the winners sent to Smithsonian magazine. “As the sequence progresses, a sort of exaggerated projection is created of the moon’s rough topography, allowing the viewer to appreciate the distorted lunar peaks and valleys.”

Queenstown Aurora by Larryn Rae

A pink aurora shines over a mountain and water in the night sky, with streaks emanating up from the horizon like fire
The pink hue of the southern lights shines over mountains, as captured in Queensland, New Zealand, in this winning image from the auroras category. © Larryn Rae

The Aurora Australis, or southern lights, illuminate the sky over the mountains of Queenstown, New Zealand. Given the popularity of photographing the northern lights, this category winner was just one of two shortlisted aurora photos taken in the Southern Hemisphere. The vivid red colors of this aurora are rarer than green auroras, because these are produced at high altitudes.

When charged particles from the sun energize atoms of gas in the Earth’s atmosphere, the excess energy gets released as light in brilliant auroras. The sun launches those particles in a phenomenon known as a coronal mass ejection (CME), when its outer atmosphere ejects magnetic fields and plasma mass into space.

Larryn Rae of New Zealand describes how his image was put together: “It is a 19-image panorama capturing all of the fast-moving beams that lit up the sky. … My astro-modified camera caught all the pink hues of the aurora beams.” The composition also came together with a bit of luck. “The aurora came out of nowhere, and I was the only person there to capture the surprise display.”

Shadow Peaks of Sinus Iridum by Gábor Balázs

A shot of the moon highlighting the textured craters, mountains, and dry bays
A close-up shot of the moon captures a flat plain known as Sinus Iridum, as well as the crater Pythagoras, which is visible because of a wobbling phenomenon called libration. The image won the contest's category for our moon. © Gábor Balázs

Captured by Gábor Balázs of Hungary, this image shows a large lunar crater called Sinus Iridum, also known as the ‘Bay of Rainbows,’ which stretches approximately 150 miles in diameter. The surrounding Montes Jura mountain range casts spiky shadows into the crater. This detailed photograph reveals how the bay is surrounded by several smaller craters, showcasing the moon’s rugged terrain. In the top right corner lies the crater Pythagoras, which is noted by astronomers for its depth and complex geological features.

Earth-bound viewers can only see one side of the moon, but a phenomenon called “libration,” in which the moon slightly oscillates, allows astronomers to see approximately 59 percent of the satellite’s total surface. This photograph includes glimpses of areas that are typically out of view because libration caused them to wobble toward the Earth.

One of the competition’s judges, Yuri Beletsky, an astronomer and award-winning photographer in his own right, stated about this capture: “This image not only highlights the capabilities of modern astrophotography equipment but also offers a vivid illustration of lunar surface features, contributing valuable insights into lunar geology.”

Echoes of the Past by Bence Tóth

Centaurus A, a galaxy only visible from the Southern Hemisphere, shines with glowing jets of radiation.
Galaxy NGC 5128, the fifth brightest galaxy as seen from Earth, won the category for galaxies. © Bence Tóth, Péter Feltóti

A shot of galaxy NGC 5128, also known as Centaurus A, took home the prize in the galaxies category. At the center is a visualization of a powerful jet of radiation and particles known as a relativistic jet. Moving at close to the speed of light, the jet serves as an indicator of a supermassive black hole.

Centaurus A is the closest radio galaxy to Earth, meaning it emits a large amount of radio waves. Centaurus A is the fifth brightest galaxy in the sky and can only be seen in the Southern Hemisphere.

Bence Tóth of Hungary describes how he and Péter Feltóti got the shot: “We captured the image data in parallel with two astrophotography setups and processed the final image from all the data.”

“This galaxy has quite a violent past due to several galaxy merging events. One of the main goals was to show how these disrupting events shaped the galaxy, as the shockwaves are propagated through the entire disc,” he adds. “The other target was to show the relativistic jet, the tell-tale sign of the supermassive black hole at the center.”

High Tech Silhouette by Tom Williams

An image of the surface of the sun with the International Space Station traversing in front of it.
The International Space Station creates a silhouette above the sun's active surface as it speeds around the Earth. This image won the contest's people and space category. © Tom Williams

Tom Williams of the United Kingdom captured this moment as the International Space Station transited in front of the surface of the sun. He describes the discipline and accuracy needed to get this detailed image: “Crossing the field of view in just 0.2 seconds, these ISS transits of the sun are particularly rare for any one location on Earth.”

The International Space Station is the largest space station ever built, maintaining an orbit with an average altitude of 250 miles. The station makes 16 orbits of the Earth per day, meaning its astronauts experience 16 sunrises and sunsets daily. It travels at a rapid five miles per second, emphasizing the precision needed to get this photo.

Williams’ image also showcases the dynamic and active nature of the sun. A large, bright, extruding solar prominence extends out from the star near the station’s transit location, making this shot extra special.

“Luckily weather conditions were great, and the sun was very lively at the time,” the photographer adds. “After many days of planning, it was a treat to have it all come to fruition.”

On Approach by Tom Williams

A collection of views of Venus’s blue and orange surface.
Venus, seen in three views as it approaches a conjunction with Earth and the sun, won the planets, comets and asteroids category. © Tom Williams

The above image shows the phases of Venus as it approaches to pass between the Earth and sun. Whenever a planet sits directly between the sun and Earth, this is referred to as an inferior conjunction. Such an alignment occurs with Venus occurs every 19.5 months.

Venus is a breathtaking, unique planet. It spins slowly in the opposite direction from most planets in our solar system. And as the closest planet to Earth, the highly reflective Venus is the third brightest object in the sky, after only the sun and moon. However, the reflectivity of its clouds makes conventional imaging methods difficult.

“This makes UV imaging of Venus particularly interesting as the planet is much more dynamic than it would be if viewed in the visible spectrum,” Williams notes. He used ultraviolet and infrared filters to reveal the intricacies of cloud structures within the planet’s upper atmosphere, represented by added colors in the image that resemble the planet’s natural hue.

Tasman Gems by Tom Rae

Stars, nebulae, and aurora shine in this summer night sky in New Zealand
Stars, nebulas and galaxies illuminate the night sky over the Tasman Valley in New Zealand. This image won the contest's skyscapes category. © Tom Rae

The rugged peaks of New Zealand’s Tasman Valley stretch upward toward an array of celestial features in the Southern Hemisphere’s summer night sky.

At the center, the red regions are hydrogen clouds of the Gum Nebula, the largest emission nebula in the sky, spanning the width of 72 full moons. Despite its size, the Gum Nebula was unknown before 1955 due to its faintness. This shot also features other regions in the Milky Way that aren’t photographed very frequently given their low brightness.

In the top right side of the frame are the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds, which are two irregular dwarf galaxies that orbit the Milky Way. Additionally, the bright stars Sirius and Canopus can be seen in the center of the image. Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, lies in the Canis Major constellation. Canopus is part of the constellation Carina and is the second-brightest star seen from the Southern Hemisphere. On the left of the image, you can see the Orion constellation with its characteristic three-star belt.

“It’s very challenging to create this sort of composition without tipping the balance in favor of either foreground or background,” says contest judge Bloomer. “As well as being technically impressive, the balance also produces a surreal quality. A slightly dream-like connection between the Earth-bound and the celestial.”

SNR G107.5-5.2 Unexpected Discovery (The Nereides Nebula in Cassiopeia) by Marcel Drechsler, Bray Falls, Yann Sainty, Nicolas Martino and Richard Galli

Bright blue remnants of a gigantic supernova form a wispy ring against red remnants and a red foggy backdrop with stars
In this winning image from the stars and nebulas category, the remnants from a gigantic supernova form wispy rings at the center of the Cassiopeia constellation. © Marcel Drechsler, Bray Falls, Yann Sainty, Nicolas Martino, Richard Galli

“A new supernova remnant right at our doorstep!” writes the team of five photographers who captured this image. “One team, 3,559 frames, 260 hours of exposure time, telescopes on three continents and one goal—not only to explore a supernova remnant that has not yet been discovered by science, but also to photograph it in an ambitious joint project.”

This gigantic supernova remnant in the resulting image is a lingering structure left over from the explosion of a star, featuring shock waves and filled with ejected materials from the blast.

The team of photographers discovered this remnant, which stretches across a wide expanse of the night sky the size of six full moons. It was a surprise find, considering it lies in the center of the famous constellation Cassiopeia, known for its “W” shape formed by five bright stars.

“Who knew this fantastic and delicate structure was there all along in one of the best-known constellations in the night sky?” says contest judge Steve Marsh, the art editor for BBC Sky at Night Magazine.

The clever coloring specifically wowed judges as it illuminated the structure’s details. Even more impressively, the team that made this miraculous discovery consisted of amateur astronomers, demonstrating the remarkable impact amateurs can have on the field.

SH2-308: Dolphin Head Nebula by Xin Feng and Miao Gong

A blue nebula is looks like a dolphin's head with its nose pointing to the top left against a colored blue and red sky
The Dolphin Head Nebula appears as a blue bubble in this image that won the Sir Patrick Moore Prize for Best Newcomer. © Xin Feng, Miao Gong

Xin Feng and Miao Gong of China took home the award for the best newcomer image, which features the charming SH2-308, commonly known as the Dolphin Head Nebula.

The bubble of ionized atomic hydrogen was pushed out from a very luminous Wolf-Rayet star. Wolf-Rayet stars are at an advanced stage in the stellar life cycle and have a high rate of mass loss. Around the Dolphin Head Nebula, stellar winds, or gas ejected from the star’s upper atmosphere, can reach over 3.3 million miles per hour, making the region lively.

Feng and Gong note the nebula “is at a low angle and can only be shot for five hours a day. … This image comprises a total of ten days of shooting and post-processing.”

NGC 1499, A Dusty California by Daniele Borsari

A reddish-pink emission nebula in the vague shape of the state of California
The California Nebula emits ionized gasses to form a long, reddish-pink shape. Captured by a 14-year-old photographer, the image won the young astrophotographer category. © Daniele Borsari

Fourteen-year-old Daniele Borsari of Italy captured the above image of the emission nebula NGC 1499, also known as the California Nebula for its resemblance to the elongated shape of the state. An emission nebula is a cloud of ionized gasses that glows, typically in red, due to being heated by nearby stars.

This nebula is just about 1,000 light-years from Earth in the constellation Perseus. Borsari captures the nebula’s shape beautifully, demonstrating the promise of young astrophotography talent, per the contest judges.

“This incredibly beautiful image… captures a nebula, atmospheric gasses and has extraordinary balance of light, composition and structure,” says judge Neal White, a researcher of contemporary art and science at the University of Westminster in England. “The future of astronomy photography being fearlessly, and openly, taken forward by a new generation.”

Anatomy of a Habitable Planet by Sergio Díaz Ruiz

A depiction of Earth’s atmosphere features shown with green, red, and blue visualizations from a full view of the spherical planet from space
This visualization of Earth’s global atmospheric conditions, based on satellite data, won the Annie Maunder Prize for Image Innovation. © Sergio Díaz Ruiz

Spanish photographer Sergio Díaz Ruiz creates a shocking depiction of a world plagued by impending global catastrophes, despite having intelligent life forms. What planet is this? Our Earth.

Various colors represent data captured by the GOES-18 weather satellite, denoting landmasses, oceans and atmospheric features. Combined with a map of artificial lights at night, the image shows Earth as an alien civilization might view and study it. The image evokes the pressing need for climate action to manage greenhouse gas emissions and other atmospheric risks to humankind.

As judge Victoria Lane, senior curator of art and identity at Royal Museums Greenwich, aptly writes, “the image poignantly emphasizes the significant environmental challenges we face and the urgent need to protect and preserve our planet.”

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Billionaire hedge fund founder Tom Steyer is running for governor

Billionaire hedge fund founder, climate change warrior and major Democratic donor Tom Steyer is running for governor. Fossil fuel and migrant detention facility investments will likely draw attacks from his fellow Democrats.

Billionaire hedge fund founder Tom Steyer announced Wednesday that he is running for governor of California, arguing that he is not beholden to special interests and can take on corporations that are making life unaffordable in the state.“The richest people in America think that they earned everything themselves. Bulls—, man. That’s so ridiculous,” Steyer said in an online video announcing his campaign. “We have a broken government. It’s been bought by corporations and my question is: Who do you think is going to change that? Sacramento politicians are afraid to change up this system. I’m not. They’re going to hate this. Bring it on.” Protesters hold placards and banners during a rally against Whitehaven Coal in Sydney in 2014. Dozens of protesters and activists gathered downtown to protest against the controversial massive Maules Creek coal mine project in northern New South Wales. (Saeed Khan / AFP/Getty Images) Steyer, 68, founded Farallon Capital Management, one of the nation’s largest hedge funds, and left it in 2012 after 26 years. Since his departure, he has become a global environmental activist and a major donor to Democratic candidates and causes. But the hedge firm’s investments — notably a giant coal mine in Australia that cleared 3,700 acres of koala habitat and a company that runs migrant detention centers on the U.S.-Mexico border for U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement — will make him susceptible to political attack by his gubernatorial rivals. Steyer has expressed regret for his involvement in such projects, saying it was why he left Farallon and started focusing his energy on fighting climate change. Democratic presidential candidate Tom Steyer addresses a crowd during a presidential primary election-night party in Columbia, S.C. (Sean Rayford / Getty Images) Steyer previously flirted with running for governor and the U.S. Senate but decided against it, instead opting to run for president in 2020. He dropped out after spending nearly $342 million on his campaign, which gained little traction before he ended his run after the South Carolina primary.Next year’s gubernatorial race is in flux, after former Vice President Kamala Harris and Sen. Alex Padilla decided not to run and Proposition 50, the successful Democratic effort to redraw congressional districts, consumed all of the political oxygen during an off-year election.Most voters are undecided about who they would like to replace Gov. Gavin Newsom, who cannot run for reelection because of term limits, according to a poll released this month by the UC Berkeley Institute of Governmental Studies and co-sponsored by The Times. Steyer had the support of 1% of voters in the survey. In recent years, Steyer has been a longtime benefactor of progressive causes, most recently spending $12 million to support the redistricting ballot measure. But when he was the focus of one of the ads, rumors spiraled that he was considering a run for governor.In prior California ballot initiatives, Steyer successfully supported efforts to close a corporate tax loophole and to raise tobacco taxes, and fought oil-industry-backed efforts to roll back environmental law.His campaign platform is to build 1 million homes in four years, lower energy costs by ending monopolies, make preschool and community college free and ban corporate contributions to political action committees in California elections.Steyer’s brother Jim, the leader of Common Sense Media, and former Biden administration U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy are aiming to put an initiative on next year’s ballot to protect children from social media, specifically the chatbots that have been accused of prompting young people to kill themselves. Newsom recently vetoed a bill aimed at addressing this artificial intelligence issue.

This Ohio County Banned Commercial Wind and Solar. Not So Fast, Residents Said.

This story was originally published by Canary Media and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. Restrictions on solar and wind farms are proliferating around the country, with scores of local governments going as far as to forbid large-scale clean-energy developments. Now, residents of an Ohio county are pushing back on one such ban on renewables—a move that […]

This story was originally published by Canary Media and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. Restrictions on solar and wind farms are proliferating around the country, with scores of local governments going as far as to forbid large-scale clean-energy developments. Now, residents of an Ohio county are pushing back on one such ban on renewables—a move that could be a model for other places where clean energy faces severe restrictions. Ohio has become a hotspot for anti-clean-energy rules. As of this fall, more than three dozen counties in the state have outlawed utility-scale solar in at least one of their townships. In Richland County, the ban came this summer, when county commissioners voted to bar economically significant solar and wind projects in 11 of the county’s 18 townships. Almost immediately, residents formed a group called the Richland County Citizens for Property Rights and Job Development to try and reverse the stricture.  ​“To me, it just is bad for the county — the whole county, not just one or two townships.” By September, they’d notched a crucial first victory, collecting enough signatures to put the issue on the ballot. Next May, when Ohioans head to the polls to vote in primary races, residents of Richland County will weigh in on a referendum that could ultimately reverse the ban. It’s the first time a county’s renewable-energy ban will be on the ballot in Ohio. From the very beginning, ​“it was just a whirlwind,” said Christina O’Millian, a leader of the Richland County group. Like most others, she didn’t know a ban was under consideration until shortly before July 17, when the commission voted on it. “We felt as constituents that we just hadn’t been heard,” O’Millian said. She views renewable energy as a way to attract more economic development to the county while reining in planet-warming greenhouse gas emissions. Brian McPeek, another of the group’s leaders and a manager for the local chapter of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, sees solar projects as huge job opportunities for the union’s members. ​“They provide a ton of work, a ton of man-hours.” Many petition signers ​“didn’t want the commissioners to make that decision for them,” said Morgan Carroll, a county resident who helped gather signatures. ​“And there was a lot of respect for farmers having their own property rights” to decide whether to lease their land. While the Ohio Power Siting Board retains general authority over where electricity generation is built, a 2021 state law known as Senate Bill 52 lets counties ban solar and wind farms in all or part of their territories. Meanwhile, Ohio law prevents local governments from blocking fossil-fuel or nuclear projects. The Richland County community group is using a process under SB 52 to challenge the renewable-energy ban via referendum. Under that law, the organization had just 30 days from the commissioners’ vote to collect signatures in support of the ballot measure. All told, more than 4,300 people signed the petition, though after the county Board of Elections rejected hundreds of signatures as invalid, the final count ended up at 3,380—just 60 more than the required threshold of 8 percent of the number of votes in the last governor’s election. Although the Richland County ban came as a surprise to many, it was months in the making. In late January, Sharon Township’s zoning committee asked the county to forbid large wind and solar projects there. After discussion at their February 6 meeting, the county commissioners wrote to all 18 townships in Richland to see if their trustees also wanted a ban. A draft fill-in-the-blanks resolution accompanied the letter. Signed resolutions came back from 11 townships. The commissioners then took up the issue again on July 17. Roughly two dozen residents came to the meeting, and a majority of those who spoke on the proposal were against it. Commissioners deferred to the township trustees. “The township trustees who were in favor of the prohibition strongly believe that they were representing the wishes of their residents, who are farming communities, who are not fans of seeing potential farmland being taken up for large wind and solar,” Commissioner Tony Vero told Canary Media. He pointed out that the ban doesn’t cover the seven remaining townships and all municipal areas. ​“I just thought it was a pretty good compromise,” he said. The concerns over putting solar panels or wind turbines on potential farmland echo land-use arguments that have long dogged rural clean-energy developments—and which have been elevated into federal policy by the Trump administration this year. Groups linked to the fossil-fuel industry have pushed these arguments in Ohio and beyond. “It’s a false narrative that they care about prime farmland,” said Bella Bogin, director of programs for Ohio Citizen Action, which helped the Richland County group collect signatures to petition for the referendum. Income from leasing some land for renewable energy can help farmers keep property in their families, and plenty of acreage currently goes to growing crops for fuel—not food. ​“We can’t eat ethanol corn,” she added. Under Ohio’s SB 52, counties—not townships—have the authority to issue blanket prohibitions over large solar and wind farms, with limited exceptions for projects already in the grid manager’s queue. In Richland County’s case, the commissioners decided to defer to townships even though they didn’t have to. The choice shows how SB 52 has led to ​“an inconsistently applied, informal framework that has created confusion about the roles of counties, townships, and the Ohio Power Siting Board,” said Chris Tavenor, general counsel for the Ohio Environmental Council. Under the law, ​“county commissioners should be carefully considering all the factors at play,” rather than deferring to townships. “I think it’s important for my children to have…the opportunities that go along with having wind and solar.” Even without a restriction in place, SB 52 lets counties nix new solar or wind farms on a case-by-case basis before they’re considered by the Ohio Power Siting Board. And when projects do go to the state regulator, counties and townships appoint two ad hoc decision-makers who vote on cases with the rest of the board. As electricity prices continue to rise across Ohio, Tavenor hopes the state’s General Assembly will reconsider SB 52, which he and other advocates say is unfairly restrictive toward solar and wind—two of the cheapest and quickest energy sources to deploy. “Lawmakers should be looking to repeal it and make a system that actually responds to the problems facing our electric grid right now,” he said. Commissioner Vero, for his part, said he has mixed feelings about the referendum. “It’s America, and if there’s enough signatures to get on the ballot, more power to people,” he said. However, he objects to the fact that SB 52 allows voters countywide to sign the petition, even if they don’t live in one of the townships with a ban, and said he hopes the legislature will amend the law to prevent that from happening elsewhere. Yet referendum supporters say the ban matters for the entire county. “It affects everybody, whether you live in a city, a township, or a village,” McPeek said. As he sees it, restrictions will deter investment from not only companies that build wind and solar but also those that want to be able to access renewable energy. ​“To me, it just is bad for the county—the whole county, not just one or two townships.” Renewable-energy projects also provide substantial amounts of tax revenue or similar PILOT payments for counties, helping fund schools and other local needs. ​“I think it’s important for my children to have more clean electric [energy] and all the opportunities that go along with having wind and solar,” Carroll said. Now that the referendum is on the ballot, the Richland County group will work to build more support and get out the vote next spring. ​“Education and outreach in the community is basically what we’re going to focus on for the campaign coming up in the next few months,” O’Millian said. “So now it goes to a countywide vote, and the population of the county gets to make that decision, instead of three guys,” McPeek said.

Ian McEwan’s Haunting Vision of the Future

It’s perhaps fair to observe that Ian McEwan has entered the elegiac phase of his career. It happens to us all eventually, I suppose, whether one makes donuts or novels; eventually pondering what came before takes up most of your dwindling time. He looked back at the past in his last two novels: Machines Like Me (2019) is set in a 1980s England depicted through an alt-historical lens (the Brits lost the Falklands war to Argentina, but, in a version of the country where Alan Turing still lives, flying cars already exist), and Lessons (2022), a portrait of a feckless boomer born the same year McEwan was, 1948, spans 70 years of its protagonist’s unremarkable, faintly gilded life, one that never quite escapes the shadow of a sexual assault at the hands of his piano teacher, Ms. Cornell, when he was 14. McEwan’s fiction has always been about the need to make meaning from catastrophe, to awaken or shield the moral imagination through the intellect, and in his new book, What We Can Know, the catastrophe is the future and the elegy is for our species, as the oceans rise and prospects grow dour.The book concerns a literary scholar, Thomas Metcalfe, in a diminished England, one McEwan imagines as half-submerged and wholly disillusioned by 2119. The country’s green fields have turned into inland deltas, the southern coast has been eaten by what survivors call The Inundation—erosion of the coasts and rewriting of the world’s topography by the onrush of salt water, spurred not just by climate change but also by a catastrophic tsunami in the Atlantic caused by an errant Russian nuclear missile that landed short of America—and what remains of civilization has reorganized itself around an archipelago in which travel is hard and the only growth industries are data recovery and atmospheric management.McEwan sketches a scarily plausible dystopia, in which Civilization hasn’t ended; after decades of hanging by a thread it has stabilized, salvaged by our weary successors who are forever bound to pay for our excesses. People move through the future quietly, their lives bracketed by scarcity and the faint hum of desalination plants. Interracial love has rendered most people honey-colored, just as the 1998 movie Bulworth predicted would become a necessity, and those with pale skin now face discrimination and othering; there was no stopping those from the global south from moving north to seek higher ground and cooler climates, especially after Pakistan and India’s nuclear exchange.In this world the humanities have become an archival curiosity and Metcalfe, a professor at the underfunded University of the South Downs, teaches to near-empty rooms. He is a relic of the humanities in a world that no longer values them, “a poor cousin to the water scientists,” as he puts it. His colleagues envy the grant money that still flows to the climatologists and biotechnologists in the new “Renaissance of Necessity.” His own work of retracing the biographies of dead poets and their spouses from an archive of the entire internet, made possible only by Nigerian ingenuity, is a ritual of mourning, an act of faith performed in the ruins of meaning. The old moral questions persist, but without the luxury of conviction. McEwan’s novels have grown more austere, more haunted by the sense that the moral and narrative architectures that once defined Western civilization have finally given out.When Metcalfe refers to the twenty-first century as the “century of hubris,” he’s not sneering, he’s nostalgic. His generation has a life expectancy of 64. Electronics are scarce, plane travel nonexistent. Those born into collapse can no longer imagine progress, only curation, it seems. Amid this landscape of loss, Metcalfe begins his excavation of Francis Blundy, a prominent early-millennial poet who once read a cycle of sonnets called “A Corona for Vivien” to a coterie of literati at a dinner in 2014. The poem is ostensibly about his life with his wife, but comes in later years to achieve widespread and enduring fame largely because of the controversy surrounding its nonexistence—no copy of it exists—and the persistent belief that it was a suppressed masterpiece containing profound truths about a changing world during the years of what twenty-second-century citizens have come to call “The Derangement.” That is the time we the reader are living through now, when the world is on a collision course with ever more calamitous climate change–powered disasters. We are promised a future that is One Battle After Another with the elements, in which no political solutions seem possible. Over time, McEwan’s novels have grown more austere, more haunted by the sense that the moral and narrative architectures that once defined Western civilization—its faith in reason, progress, democratic governance—have finally given out.The world of What We Can Know is one of threadbare survival and epistemological doubt. It’s a book about the failure of understanding, and it reads like the work of a man who has accepted that no form of mastery, literary or otherwise, will save us. Yet the mastery is there for all to see: McEwan’s prose has never been looser or more humane. Gone is the mechanical precision that once made his moral contraptions click. What remains is an older writer’s acceptance of disorder, an embrace of the fog. The sentences are warm even when the world they describe has cooled due to nuclear dust settling into the atmosphere as The Derangement faded. The mystery of the poem’s disappearance and the suggestion that it might have been suppressed, or bought off by oil interests, or simply burned, drives the narrative as Metcalfe digs deeper into the moral archaeology of Blundy’s life. Blundy is vain, brilliant, intermittently tender, and wholly convinced that his intellect confers moral immunity. Vivien, a scholar of the Romantic poet John Clare, has allowed her own academic career to calcify in service of her husband’s as a poet. McEwan renders the contours of her domestic life—the long dinners for “the Barn set,” the ironing, the peeled potatoes for the poet’s birthday—as both parody of how much information those living through The Derangement collected digitally about their lives and as a lament for where it was all headed. Hers is a mind turned servant to another’s ambition, the life of the highly educated housewife whose tragedy is self-knowledge.The revelations in her confession arrive with the deliberate rhythm of memory loosening its hold. Vivien recounts her earlier marriage to Percy Greene, a kind craftsman and luthier whose mind begins to fray with Alzheimer’s. It is while caring for Percy that she meets Francis, who charms her, seduces her, and eventually persuades her that the sick man’s death would be merciful—an event he brings about himself, with a mallet. Francis, having inherited both his widow and his violin, begins the slow work of absorbing the dead man’s life into his own art.That theft—and its moral, emotional, and artistic dimensions—forms the novel’s true moral crisis. When, years later, Francis reads “A Corona for Vivien” aloud at a dinner table thick with smoke and brandy, she recognizes its falseness immediately. The poem, a lush meditation on love, mortality, and the natural world, is the inverse of everything the man believes. “I don’t like country walks,” he once told her. “I don’t know the names of flowers and I don’t give a damn.” In that moment she understands that he has not only stolen her husband’s essence but forged a counterfeit of her own devotion. What Metcalfe finds is not the poem itself but explanation of its absence, made manifest in the form of Vivien’s confession. Her memoir, retrieved from a sealed container beside her first husband’s violin, rewrites the story entirely. It reveals a marriage rooted in exploitation, a literary myth built on cruelty. Francis, a self-anointed genius who dismissed climate change as hysteria, depended on Vivien’s labor and intellect even as he erased them. That night, after the guests have gone, Vivien rolls up the poem’s vellum scroll and feeds it into the dairy stove. The act is both vengeance and mercy: the burning of a false idol. Her decision to destroy his work, committing it to the fire on the night of its triumph, is both punishment and release, the act of a woman reclaiming the one power left to her: the right to silence him.Climate change here is not backdrop but the lens through which all the characters must see the world. It muddies everything: the meanings of guilt, of authorship, of love. The irony that Metcalfe’s entire project—his attempt to reconstruct a bygone world from fragments—is perhaps animated by the same delusion that animated Blundy’s poetry does not escape McEwan. The belief that language can fix what nature destroys, or at least allow us a way past it, lives in both the protagonist and the object of his obsession here. He pores over Vivien’s letters, texts, and shopping lists as if they were fossils, “tokens of vitality” in an era when vitality itself has become an endangered condition. McEwan uses that obsession to mirror our own digital archiving of catastrophe, the endless documentation that substitutes for action.Francis’s climate denial, meanwhile, is more than characterization; it is McEwan’s indictment of the twenty-first-century elite class that refuses to imagine the crisis as worth sacrificing our decadent comforts and entitlements for. The poet’s failure to perceive the natural world except as metaphor becomes, in hindsight, a metaphor for civilization’s failure to perceive its own ending. McEwan, who turned 77 this year, writes with the lucidity of a craftsman who knows he’s constructing his own monument to a future he will never know. If Atonement asked whether fiction could redeem guilt, What We Can Know suggests that the very possibility of redemption might be foolhardy.Like McEwan’s most famous novel, Atonement, What We Can Know has a nested structure—beginning with Metcalfe’s frame, then Vivien’s confession, and the recovered fragments of Francis’s correspondence—and it recalls Atonement, too, in its fascination with the ethics of narrative control. Francis Blundy, in his climate-denying, classicist arrogance, is an emblem of the old order, one that governs our world today: male, murderous, self-mythologizing, possessed by delusions that are driving us all off a cliff. Vivien’s corrective isn’t enough to save her first husband, or the world, from Francis’s harm. There is no justice to be found. If Atonement asked whether fiction could redeem guilt, What We Can Know suggests that the very possibility of redemption might be foolhardy. But continue we must; the future McEwan envisions is grim but not loveless. Metcalfe, trudging between the archives and his coastal home, finds an unexpected companion in his colleague Rose Church, and their late-blooming affection, growing into an on-again, off-again literature department romance—halting, courteous, tinged with exhaustion—gives the novel its fragile heartbeat. When Rose reveals her pregnancy near the end, McEwan resists sentimentality. The child’s birth is not salvation; it is continuation, “the next link in the chain of futility and care.” Still, that flicker of human persistence feels like grace.If 2011’s Solar was McEwan’s comic treatment of environmental hubris, What We Can Know is its deeper, more tragic echo. Here, climate change functions as the novel’s moral solvent, dissolving the old binaries—guilt and innocence, art and theft, preservation and erasure—until all that remains is entropy. “The imagined poem triumphs over the real,” Metcalfe concludes, “because the imagination is all we have left.” In that single sentence lies both McEwan’s despair and his faith: despair that human artifice has supplanted the natural world, faith that it might still bear witness to the loss.

It’s perhaps fair to observe that Ian McEwan has entered the elegiac phase of his career. It happens to us all eventually, I suppose, whether one makes donuts or novels; eventually pondering what came before takes up most of your dwindling time. He looked back at the past in his last two novels: Machines Like Me (2019) is set in a 1980s England depicted through an alt-historical lens (the Brits lost the Falklands war to Argentina, but, in a version of the country where Alan Turing still lives, flying cars already exist), and Lessons (2022), a portrait of a feckless boomer born the same year McEwan was, 1948, spans 70 years of its protagonist’s unremarkable, faintly gilded life, one that never quite escapes the shadow of a sexual assault at the hands of his piano teacher, Ms. Cornell, when he was 14. McEwan’s fiction has always been about the need to make meaning from catastrophe, to awaken or shield the moral imagination through the intellect, and in his new book, What We Can Know, the catastrophe is the future and the elegy is for our species, as the oceans rise and prospects grow dour.The book concerns a literary scholar, Thomas Metcalfe, in a diminished England, one McEwan imagines as half-submerged and wholly disillusioned by 2119. The country’s green fields have turned into inland deltas, the southern coast has been eaten by what survivors call The Inundation—erosion of the coasts and rewriting of the world’s topography by the onrush of salt water, spurred not just by climate change but also by a catastrophic tsunami in the Atlantic caused by an errant Russian nuclear missile that landed short of America—and what remains of civilization has reorganized itself around an archipelago in which travel is hard and the only growth industries are data recovery and atmospheric management.McEwan sketches a scarily plausible dystopia, in which Civilization hasn’t ended; after decades of hanging by a thread it has stabilized, salvaged by our weary successors who are forever bound to pay for our excesses. People move through the future quietly, their lives bracketed by scarcity and the faint hum of desalination plants. Interracial love has rendered most people honey-colored, just as the 1998 movie Bulworth predicted would become a necessity, and those with pale skin now face discrimination and othering; there was no stopping those from the global south from moving north to seek higher ground and cooler climates, especially after Pakistan and India’s nuclear exchange.In this world the humanities have become an archival curiosity and Metcalfe, a professor at the underfunded University of the South Downs, teaches to near-empty rooms. He is a relic of the humanities in a world that no longer values them, “a poor cousin to the water scientists,” as he puts it. His colleagues envy the grant money that still flows to the climatologists and biotechnologists in the new “Renaissance of Necessity.” His own work of retracing the biographies of dead poets and their spouses from an archive of the entire internet, made possible only by Nigerian ingenuity, is a ritual of mourning, an act of faith performed in the ruins of meaning. The old moral questions persist, but without the luxury of conviction. McEwan’s novels have grown more austere, more haunted by the sense that the moral and narrative architectures that once defined Western civilization have finally given out.When Metcalfe refers to the twenty-first century as the “century of hubris,” he’s not sneering, he’s nostalgic. His generation has a life expectancy of 64. Electronics are scarce, plane travel nonexistent. Those born into collapse can no longer imagine progress, only curation, it seems. Amid this landscape of loss, Metcalfe begins his excavation of Francis Blundy, a prominent early-millennial poet who once read a cycle of sonnets called “A Corona for Vivien” to a coterie of literati at a dinner in 2014. The poem is ostensibly about his life with his wife, but comes in later years to achieve widespread and enduring fame largely because of the controversy surrounding its nonexistence—no copy of it exists—and the persistent belief that it was a suppressed masterpiece containing profound truths about a changing world during the years of what twenty-second-century citizens have come to call “The Derangement.” That is the time we the reader are living through now, when the world is on a collision course with ever more calamitous climate change–powered disasters. We are promised a future that is One Battle After Another with the elements, in which no political solutions seem possible. Over time, McEwan’s novels have grown more austere, more haunted by the sense that the moral and narrative architectures that once defined Western civilization—its faith in reason, progress, democratic governance—have finally given out.The world of What We Can Know is one of threadbare survival and epistemological doubt. It’s a book about the failure of understanding, and it reads like the work of a man who has accepted that no form of mastery, literary or otherwise, will save us. Yet the mastery is there for all to see: McEwan’s prose has never been looser or more humane. Gone is the mechanical precision that once made his moral contraptions click. What remains is an older writer’s acceptance of disorder, an embrace of the fog. The sentences are warm even when the world they describe has cooled due to nuclear dust settling into the atmosphere as The Derangement faded. The mystery of the poem’s disappearance and the suggestion that it might have been suppressed, or bought off by oil interests, or simply burned, drives the narrative as Metcalfe digs deeper into the moral archaeology of Blundy’s life. Blundy is vain, brilliant, intermittently tender, and wholly convinced that his intellect confers moral immunity. Vivien, a scholar of the Romantic poet John Clare, has allowed her own academic career to calcify in service of her husband’s as a poet. McEwan renders the contours of her domestic life—the long dinners for “the Barn set,” the ironing, the peeled potatoes for the poet’s birthday—as both parody of how much information those living through The Derangement collected digitally about their lives and as a lament for where it was all headed. Hers is a mind turned servant to another’s ambition, the life of the highly educated housewife whose tragedy is self-knowledge.The revelations in her confession arrive with the deliberate rhythm of memory loosening its hold. Vivien recounts her earlier marriage to Percy Greene, a kind craftsman and luthier whose mind begins to fray with Alzheimer’s. It is while caring for Percy that she meets Francis, who charms her, seduces her, and eventually persuades her that the sick man’s death would be merciful—an event he brings about himself, with a mallet. Francis, having inherited both his widow and his violin, begins the slow work of absorbing the dead man’s life into his own art.That theft—and its moral, emotional, and artistic dimensions—forms the novel’s true moral crisis. When, years later, Francis reads “A Corona for Vivien” aloud at a dinner table thick with smoke and brandy, she recognizes its falseness immediately. The poem, a lush meditation on love, mortality, and the natural world, is the inverse of everything the man believes. “I don’t like country walks,” he once told her. “I don’t know the names of flowers and I don’t give a damn.” In that moment she understands that he has not only stolen her husband’s essence but forged a counterfeit of her own devotion. What Metcalfe finds is not the poem itself but explanation of its absence, made manifest in the form of Vivien’s confession. Her memoir, retrieved from a sealed container beside her first husband’s violin, rewrites the story entirely. It reveals a marriage rooted in exploitation, a literary myth built on cruelty. Francis, a self-anointed genius who dismissed climate change as hysteria, depended on Vivien’s labor and intellect even as he erased them. That night, after the guests have gone, Vivien rolls up the poem’s vellum scroll and feeds it into the dairy stove. The act is both vengeance and mercy: the burning of a false idol. Her decision to destroy his work, committing it to the fire on the night of its triumph, is both punishment and release, the act of a woman reclaiming the one power left to her: the right to silence him.Climate change here is not backdrop but the lens through which all the characters must see the world. It muddies everything: the meanings of guilt, of authorship, of love. The irony that Metcalfe’s entire project—his attempt to reconstruct a bygone world from fragments—is perhaps animated by the same delusion that animated Blundy’s poetry does not escape McEwan. The belief that language can fix what nature destroys, or at least allow us a way past it, lives in both the protagonist and the object of his obsession here. He pores over Vivien’s letters, texts, and shopping lists as if they were fossils, “tokens of vitality” in an era when vitality itself has become an endangered condition. McEwan uses that obsession to mirror our own digital archiving of catastrophe, the endless documentation that substitutes for action.Francis’s climate denial, meanwhile, is more than characterization; it is McEwan’s indictment of the twenty-first-century elite class that refuses to imagine the crisis as worth sacrificing our decadent comforts and entitlements for. The poet’s failure to perceive the natural world except as metaphor becomes, in hindsight, a metaphor for civilization’s failure to perceive its own ending. McEwan, who turned 77 this year, writes with the lucidity of a craftsman who knows he’s constructing his own monument to a future he will never know. If Atonement asked whether fiction could redeem guilt, What We Can Know suggests that the very possibility of redemption might be foolhardy.Like McEwan’s most famous novel, Atonement, What We Can Know has a nested structure—beginning with Metcalfe’s frame, then Vivien’s confession, and the recovered fragments of Francis’s correspondence—and it recalls Atonement, too, in its fascination with the ethics of narrative control. Francis Blundy, in his climate-denying, classicist arrogance, is an emblem of the old order, one that governs our world today: male, murderous, self-mythologizing, possessed by delusions that are driving us all off a cliff. Vivien’s corrective isn’t enough to save her first husband, or the world, from Francis’s harm. There is no justice to be found. If Atonement asked whether fiction could redeem guilt, What We Can Know suggests that the very possibility of redemption might be foolhardy. But continue we must; the future McEwan envisions is grim but not loveless. Metcalfe, trudging between the archives and his coastal home, finds an unexpected companion in his colleague Rose Church, and their late-blooming affection, growing into an on-again, off-again literature department romance—halting, courteous, tinged with exhaustion—gives the novel its fragile heartbeat. When Rose reveals her pregnancy near the end, McEwan resists sentimentality. The child’s birth is not salvation; it is continuation, “the next link in the chain of futility and care.” Still, that flicker of human persistence feels like grace.If 2011’s Solar was McEwan’s comic treatment of environmental hubris, What We Can Know is its deeper, more tragic echo. Here, climate change functions as the novel’s moral solvent, dissolving the old binaries—guilt and innocence, art and theft, preservation and erasure—until all that remains is entropy. “The imagined poem triumphs over the real,” Metcalfe concludes, “because the imagination is all we have left.” In that single sentence lies both McEwan’s despair and his faith: despair that human artifice has supplanted the natural world, faith that it might still bear witness to the loss.

China's Diesel Trucks Are Shifting to Electric. This Could Change Global LNG and Diesel Demand.

China is rapidly replacing its aging diesel trucks with electric models, signaling a major shift in the world’s largest vehicle market

HANOI, Vietnam (AP) — China is replacing its diesel trucks with electric models faster than expected, potentially reshaping global fuel demand and the future of heavy transport.In 2020, nearly all new trucks in China ran on diesel. By the first half of 2025, battery-powered trucks accounted for 22% of new heavy truck sales, up from 9.2% in the same period in 2024, according to Commercial Vehicle World, a Beijing-based trucking data provider. The British research firm BMI forecasts electric trucks will reach nearly 46% of new sales this year and 60% next year.Trucking has been considered hard to decarbonize since electric trucks with heavy batteries can carry less cargo than those using energy-dense diesel. Proponents of liquefied natural gas have viewed it as a less polluting option while technology for electric heavy vehicles matures.Liquefied natural gas, or LNG, is natural gas cooled to a liquid fuel for easy storage and transport. China’s trucking fleet, the world’s second-largest after the U.S., still mainly runs on diesel, but the landscape is shifting. Transport fuel demand is plateauing, according to the International Energy Agency and diesel use in China could decline faster than many expect, said Christopher Doleman, an analyst at the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis. Electric trucks now outsell LNG models in China, so its demand for fossil fuels could fall, and "in other countries, it might never take off,” he said. Costs fall in China’s electric truck pivot The share of electrics in new truck sales, from 8% in 2024 to 28% by August 2025, has more than tripled as prices have fallen. Electric trucks outsold LNG-powered vehicles in China for five consecutive months this year, according to Commercial Vehicle World.While electric trucks are twice to three times more expensive than diesel ones and cost roughly 18% more than LNG trucks, their higher energy efficiency and lower costs can save owners an estimated 10% to 26% over the vehicle’s lifetime, according to research by Chinese scientists.“When it comes to heavy trucks, the fleet owners in China are very bottom-line driven,” Doleman said.Early sales were buoyed by generous government incentives like a 2024 scheme for truck owners to trade in old vehicles. Owners can get up to about $19,000 to replace older trucks with newer or electric models.Investments in charging infrastructure are also boosting demand for electric trucks.Major logistics hubs, including in the Yangtze River Delta, have added dedicated charging stations along key freight routes. Cities like Beijing and Shanghai have built heavy-duty charging hubs along highways that can charge trucks in minutes.CATL, the world’s largest maker of electric vehicle batteries, launched a time-saving battery-swapping system for heavy trucks in May and said it plans a nationwide network of swap stations covering 150,000 kilometers (about 93,000 miles) out of China's 184,000 kms (about 114,000 miles) of expressways. Global energy markets will feel the impact The surge in sales of electric trucks is cutting diesel use and could reshape future LNG demand, analysts say.Diesel consumption in China, the second-largest consumer of the fuel after the U.S., fell to 3.9 million barrels per day in June 2024, down 11% year-on-year and the largest drop since mid-2021, partly reflecting the shift to LNG and electric trucks, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration.“The rise of China’s electric truck sector is one of the more under-reported stories in the global energy transition, especially given its potential impact on regional diesel trade flows,” said Tim Daiss of APAC Energy Consultancy.LNG truck sales peaked in Sept 2023 and March 2024 after China eased transport restrictions imposed during the COVID-19 pandemic, said Liuhanzi Yang of ICCT Beijing. By June 2025, sales had slipped 6% as electric trucks gained ground.Shell’s 2025 LNG Outlook projects that demand for imported LNG in China, the world’s largest LNG importer, will continue to rise partly due to LNG trucks. It also suggests LNG trucking might expand to other markets, such as India.China’s electric trucks are already cutting oil demand by the equivalent of more than a million barrels a day, estimates the New York-based research provider Rhodium Group.But Doleman views LNG as a “transitional step” unlikely to be seen apart from in China, where a vast pipeline infrastructure, abundant domestic gas production and byproducts like coke oven gas created conditions conducive to LNG-fueled trucking not seen elsewhere. China’s is planning new emission standards for vehicles that will limit multiple pollutants and set average greenhouse gas targets across a manufacturer’s fleet. This will make it “almost impossible” for companies relying solely on fossil-fuel vehicles to comply, Yang said.A 2020 ICCT study found LNG-fueled trucks cut emissions by 2%-9% over 100 years but can be more polluting in the short run due to leaks of methane, a potent planet-warming gas that can trap more than 80 times more heat in the atmosphere in the short term than carbon dioxide. Modern diesel now nearly matches LNG in air-quality performance. China is eyeing the global electric truck market Already the world’s largest exporter of passenger cars, China is turning its sights to the global electric truck market. Chinese automakers have kept costs down and sped up truck manufacturing while ensuring different parts work seamlessly together with in-house production of most key components, from batteries to motors and electronics, said Bill Russo, founder and CEO of the Shanghai-based consultancy Automobility Limited. China's hyperactive delivery industry, particularly urban freight trucks, has been an early proving ground for these vehicles, he noted.In 2021-2023, exports of Chinese heavy-duty trucks including EVS to the Middle East and North Africa grew about 73% annually while shipments to Latin America rose 46%, according to a McKinsey & Company report. The share of electrics is expected to grow, though limited charging infrastructure could pose a challenge.China's Sany Heavy Industry says it will start exporting its electric trucks to Europe in 2026. It is has already exported some electric trucks to the U.S., Asian countries like Thailand and India, and the the United Arab Emirates, among others.In June, Chinese EV maker BYD broke ground in Hungary for an electric truck and bus factory, with an eye toward a mandatory European target of cutting carbon emissions from new trucks by 90% by 2040 compared to 2019 levels.Prices of zero-emission trucks in Europe must roughly halve to become affordable alternatives to diesel, according to another study in 2024 by McKinsey.Volvo told The Associated Press that it didn't comment on competitors but welcomed “competition on fair terms," while Scania did not respond.“Things are shaking up,” Daiss said. ___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 – Nov. 2025

Onboard the world’s largest sailing cargo ship: is this the future of travel and transport?

The Neoliner Origin set off on its inaugural two-week voyage from France to the US with the aim of revolutionising the notoriously dirty shipping industryIt is 8pm on a Saturday evening and eight of us are sitting at a table onboard a ship, holding on to our plates of spaghetti carbonara as our chairs slide back and forth. Michel Péry, the dinner’s host, downplays the weather as a “tempête de journalistes” – something sailors would not categorise as a storm, but which drama-seeking journalists might refer to as such to entertain their readers.But after a white-knuckle night in our cabins with winds reaching 74mph or force 12 – officially a hurricane – Péry has to admit it was not just a “journalists’ storm”, but the real deal. Continue reading...

It is 8pm on a Saturday evening and eight of us are sitting at a table onboard a ship, holding on to our plates of spaghetti carbonara as our chairs slide back and forth. Michel Péry, the dinner’s host, downplays the weather as a “tempête de journalistes” – something sailors would not categorise as a storm, but which drama-seeking journalists might refer to as such to entertain their readers.But after a white-knuckle night in our cabins with winds reaching 74mph or force 12 – officially a hurricane – Péry has to admit it was not just a “journalists’ storm”, but the real deal.Part way through the journey the front sail had to be repaired. Photograph: Arthur Jacobs/NeolineI am onboard the Neoliner Origin, the world’s largest sailing cargo ship, for its two-week inaugural voyage from the west coast of France to Baltimore, Maryland, in the US. And it is not all plain sailing.By operating at a reduced speed, and chasing the wind, the Neoliner Origin’s goal is to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions by 80% compared with an equivalent diesel-powered cargo ship – and in the process, chart a course to decarbonise the notoriously dirty shipping industry.It is being powered primarily by the two semi-rigid sails made from carbon and fibreglass and a backup diesel-electric engine.Onboard are eight passengers, more than a dozen crew and 1,204 tonnes of cargo, including 500,000 bottles of Hennessy cognac, container-loads of refrigerated French brioche, a dozen forklifts and eight hybrid Renault cars.I accepted the invitation to sail on the Neoliner Origin because, as an environmental writer, its first transatlantic journey happened to align with my own goal: to travel from my home in Berlin to visit my family in Canada without flying, in a bid to reduce my carbon footprint.Roughly 80% of goods traded worldwide are transported by ship, and the industry accounts for about 3% of global carbon emissions. If shipping were a country, it would be the world’s sixth-largest emitter. Much of the shipping industry also uses one of the dirtiest of all fossil fuels: called heavy fuel oil, or bunker fuel, it is the tar-like sludge found at the bottom of a barrel of refined oil.To do something real for the planet – it’s the dream of my lifeWind-powered cargo ships could even offer an alternative to flying, one of the most carbon-intensive activities. Though only 10% of the global population flies, aviation accounts for 2.5% of global emissions.“I’ve been dreaming about being captain on this ship for 15 years,” says one of the Neoliner Origin’s captains, Antonin Petit, who grew up sailing off Brittany with his family, collecting rubbish from the sea as they went along the French coast.Two semi-rigid sails made of carbon and fibreglass power the Neoliner Origin, which also has a backup diesel engine“To do something real for the planet by not burning any fuel oil into the atmosphere to carry goods by sea – it’s the dream of my life,” he says.Onboard, the days soon find their own rhythm: breakfast, lunch and dinner with the other passengers and crew in the dining room, meals often inspired by French cuisine, and always followed by a cheese plate. We entertain ourselves with card games in the passengers’ lounge and whale-watching from the top deck, where we spot fin whales and dolphins, as well as seabirds of all shapes and sizes.We are invited up to the bridge, where we learn that the engine is only being used at 20% to 50% of its capacity, which means the sails are doing their job and reducing fuel consumption.But three days into the journey, things take a turn. The top panel of one of the carbon sails cracks and then shatters, rendering it unusable – suspected to be due to a flaw in the design and dimensions of the panel.Dolphins were seen on the voyage, as well as fin whales. Photograph: Arthur Jacobs/NeolineThe sail cannot be repaired until we arrive in the tiny archipelago of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon off Canada’s coast a week later, when a team of five technicians fly in from France and painstakingly reconstruct the sail in a makeshift workshop in the cargo hold over the next five days.The front sail is still usable, so onward and westward we go. But this single sail throws the ambitious fuel and emissions reductions goals for the journey into disarray. The crew are forced to rely on the 4,000kW engine for the next 12 days of the crossing until Baltimore.It is also bad timing. We have navigated towards a low-pressure system, hoping to use the powerful winds to propel us. But the winds do not behave as the weather-forecasting software has modelled – a gap between prediction and reality that crew members say is becoming more common thanks to the effects of climate breakdown.Antonin Petit, one of Neoliner Origin’s captains. Photograph: Arthur Jacobs/NeolineInstead, the depression stops right on top of the ship and stays there for a day and a half, resulting in the slip-sliding dinner and leaving me relieved I remembered to pack sea sickness tablets.The new ship is still in its pilot phase, fresh from the shipyard, the crew reminds us, so hiccups are to be expected. For now, adventure is part of the cost of the journey.So is this really the future of transport and travel?According to research by the International Council on Clean Transportation (ICCT), 90% of shipping decarbonisation will require a switch from dirty bunker oil to greener fuels – renewable hydrogen, ideally – with the other 10% including efficiency improvements such as retrofitting sails to ships for wind-assisted propulsion.Bryan Comer, marine programme director with the ICCT, says: “There is an opportunity for wind-assisted propulsion to reduce fuel consumption and costs, which is useful because renewable hydrogen will be three to four times more expensive than fossil fuels.”For passenger ships, however, there is an additional cost – that of a ticket: a two-week crossing from Saint-Nazaire to Baltimore on Neoline costs €3,200 (£2,800).For cargo ships, using wind is not as simple as adding two sails, however. A cargo ship with sails must either be built from scratch – the Neoliner Origin cost €60m to build – or undergo an expensive retrofit.Neoliner Origin prepares to depart on its maiden voyage from Saint-Nazaire in Brittany. Photograph: A Jacobs/NeolineThere is also the question of size: the 136-metre-long roll-on, roll-off Neoliner Origin is the largest of a new wave of sailing cargo ships, but small compared with the 400-metre Suez canal-blocking behemoths used in international shipping.Wind propulsion can have a greater impact for smaller ships, but it would “require more of those ships to move the same amount of cargo,” says Comer.“So that doesn’t seem like a realistic pathway for international shipping, where things are just getting bigger and bigger.”Michaela onboard Neoliner Origin. Photograph: Arthur Jacobs/NeolineDespite the broken sail and low-pressure system, we arrive at the port of Baltimore only a day later than planned. Though Neoline will not publish its first set of data on its fuel consumption for another six months, estimates from the captain suggest that the ship reduced its fuel consumption by nearly half of what a conventional cargo ship would use, relying on just one sail and the engine. Neoliner Origin has sold more than 100 passenger tickets for further journeys over the next few months.After two weeks of adventure, I am happy to be reunited with terra firma. And the final accounting for my journey from Berlin to Ottawa without flying wound up as 22 days travelling over 9,500km (5,900 miles), through nine cities, with 30 hours spent on trains and 15 days on one very low-carbon and exciting cargo-ship crossing of the ocean.It was the end of my journey, but Petit sees the Neoliner Origin’s first crossing as not just the beginning of the ship’s life, but the culmination of decades of work. “I’m so proud to finally be here,” he says.To align his personal convictions with his professional life was worth waiting for, he says. “It’s a reconciliation of two parts of my life that were previously separate. Neoline allows me that – and we’ll try to strengthen that and make it last.”

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