A bold plan to save the world from a $40 billion disaster is underway. Scientists are racing against time to prevent a catastrophic event that could change the planet forever. The Thwaites Glacier, often referred to as Antarctica's 'doomsday glacier', is on the brink of collapse, and its demise could lead to a two-foot rise in global sea levels. This is not just a theoretical concern; it's a real and present danger that demands immediate attention.
An international team of dedicated researchers has embarked on a mission to install sensors on and around the unstable Thwaites Glacier. Their goal is to gather crucial data that could determine the fate of an ambitious idea: to slow down the glacier's retreat and prevent a potential disaster. The team will attempt to drop a fiber-optic cable through a 3,200-foot borehole, near the glacier's grounding line, where the ocean is relentlessly eroding it from below. This data collection is crucial to understanding the complex dynamics of Thwaites and finding a way to intervene.
But here's where it gets controversial... Some scientists, like David Holland, a climate scientist at NYU, believe that an intervention could alter the glacier's fate. They propose a massive undertaking: constructing a giant curtain, up to 500 feet tall and 50 miles long, to divert warm ocean currents away from the glacier's base. This idea, once considered fringe, is now gaining traction as more scientists recognize the inevitability of targeted interventions in our climate.
The curtain project, along with other competing ideas, has raised millions of dollars from various sources, including traditional philanthropic foundations. It's a sign that the world is waking up to the urgency of the situation and the need for innovative solutions. Holland puts it bluntly: "The idea of a clean exit from climate change is a fantasy. The least brutal outcome for the world will be decided, and it involves taking action."
Geoengineering, a controversial term for sure, encompasses a range of interventions, from removing carbon dioxide from the ocean to using aerosols to dim the sun. It's gaining support because the world is not decarbonizing fast enough. Global temperatures are set to rise beyond the Paris Agreement's threshold, and climate impacts are already being felt - droughts, intensified fire seasons, and stronger hurricanes.
Marianne Hagen, a former Norwegian deputy minister, initially viewed geoengineering as science fiction. But the Ukraine war changed her perspective. Energy security became a priority, and she realized the vulnerability of coastal nations. Hagen joined forces with John Moore, a glaciologist, to co-lead the curtain project, driven by a sense of despair and the need to explore all possible solutions.
The project has received initial funding from Outlier Projects and the Tom Wilhelmsen Foundation, highlighting the role of private patrons in funding geoengineering research. Another group, the Arête Glacier Initiative, is exploring the idea of refreezing Thwaites by pumping out meltwater or using heat pumps. These localized interventions aim to limit damage to coastal communities, and they've garnered enthusiasm from the philanthropic community.
Scientists agree that without intervention, Thwaites' retreat will accelerate, leading to its eventual collapse. The West Antarctic Ice Sheet, which Thwaites acts as a cork for, contains enough water to raise sea levels by nearly 17 feet. The cost of localized interventions at Thwaites is seen as a small price to pay compared to the expense of building seawalls around major cities.
However, not everyone is on board with geoengineering. Many in the scientific community vehemently disagree, arguing that these proposals are a dangerous distraction from the real solution: decarbonization. Martin Siegert, a polar glaciologist, and his co-authors published a paper detailing the technical challenges and potential ecosystem damage of such interventions. They believe pursuing these ideas offers false hope and diverts attention from the urgent need to reduce fossil fuel use.
Glaciologist Ted Scambos, who co-led a major U.S.-U.K. collaboration, initially supported geoengineering research but has since changed his stance. He strongly opposes funding or testing climate mitigation methods, believing it should be a matter of international law. Instead, he advocates for a laser-focused approach on reducing fossil fuel use and minimizing economic impacts.
Proponents of geoengineering, like Moore, see their work as a necessary lifeboat in a sinking ship. They argue that even with rapid decarbonization, Thwaites may still collapse. "To save the glaciers, we'd need magic. It's delusional to think otherwise," Moore says. Some proponents see these interventions as acts of preservation, similar to redirecting rivers or rebuilding beaches. They argue that letting Thwaites collapse would violate the Antarctic Treaty System's environmental preservation clause.
The question remains: How far are we willing to go to preserve the cryosphere while the world works on decarbonization? Geoengineering proponents believe it's easier to persuade a smaller group of nations, like the 29 members of the Antarctic Treaty, to build a sea curtain than to convince all 193 UN members to seed the atmosphere with chemicals. Opponents worry about breaking existing environmental protections and endangering the treaty.
Holland, for one, is confident in the outcome. He predicts that in a thousand years, the Earth will be geoengineered, with the entire climate regulated like a modern home. While there may be new challenges and potential risks, he believes humanity will do what it takes to survive. "If it survives, humanity is simply going to do this," he says.
