Sulfur dioxide is injected into clouds to block the sun. Extracting carbon dioxide from thin air using a vacuum. Adding iron to the ocean draws greenhouse gases to the ocean floor. As recently as a few years ago, technologies aimed at changing the Earth's atmosphere (commonly known as geoengineering) were too impractical, too expensive, and too far-fetched to be taken seriously. It was thought that it could not be done.
But as I write in a new article, some of these technologies are being introduced. One is already in place.
The effects of climate change are only getting worse. And countries are falling short of collective goals to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. The risks are very real. Last year was the hottest year in modern history. Oceans around the world are surprisingly warm. Floods, fires and droughts are intensifying.
Therefore, investors and entrepreneurs are trying to solve this problem, sometimes unilaterally. In today's newsletter, we will explain some of those efforts.
Many scientists and environmentalists are concerned about the safety and effectiveness of geoengineering. And some of the best-funded projects are funded by the very oil and gas companies most responsible for greenhouse gas emissions. Still, plans to intentionally tinker with Earth's atmosphere are moving forward at a rapid pace.
underground bubbles
On a warm winter day last month, I went to a large construction site outside of Odessa, Texas. There, Occidental Petroleum is building the world's largest direct air capture plant. The company plans to introduce this starting next year.
The mechanism is relatively simple. A giant fan blows air over the water, which has been treated to absorb carbon dioxide. Occidental then uses chemicals to separate that CO2, mix the gas with water and pump it underground. Extreme underground pressure traps the gas permanently.
Occidental said most of the carbon dioxide it captures will be sequestered in rock and permanently removed from the atmosphere. But at least some of it will be used to extract more oil from the ground, creating more greenhouse gases that dangerously heat the planet. Earlier this year, I toured a similar factory in Iceland. It was built by a Swiss company called Crimeworks, which does not sell CO2 to oil companies.
Other attempts to regulate the climate are still in their infancy. A California startup claimed it released sulfur dioxide into Mexico's atmosphere without permission, aimed at blocking solar radiation. (Mexico has since banned the process.) Researchers in Massachusetts are investigating whether they can generate blooms of phytoplankton that absorb carbon dioxide and settle on the ocean floor.
Who has the power?
Critics of air capture plants like those in Texas and Iceland remain skeptical. These projects are very expensive and extremely energy intensive, producing only a small amount of annual greenhouse gas emissions. Perhaps it is diverting policymakers' attention from the more urgent task of reducing fossil fuel emissions.
Despite these concerns, the market for these ventures is expected to grow from less than $10 billion today to up to $135 billion by 2040, according to Boston Consulting Group. Occidental plans to build 100 factories over the next few years, funded in part by $1.2 billion in technology funding from the Biden administration. Crimeworks hopes to build in Kenya, Canada, Europe and Louisiana.
It is not uncommon for new technologies to gain traction before major questions about their effectiveness, safety, and regulation are resolved. Who deserves the right to change the planet, and what burden of proof should they bear in the first place?
Despite their potential to impact the entire planet, there are currently no international standards governing these new technologies. One of my environmental philosophy professors told me, “We don't have a great track record of sustained global cooperation.''
For many: Read David's report on Iceland, where carbon capture is a small but growing business.
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meaning: Designed in the 1950s, the peace sign was once a powerful symbol of the anti-war and counter-cultural movements. Today, for the younger generation, this sign is just a boring lifestyle motif.
“When you take one look at a peace sign, it just feels really outdated and meaningless,” a 22-year-old college junior told designer and academic Michael Locke. “I remember when I was in elementary school. This was written on everyone's water bottles and T-shirts.”
Read more about how the resonance of your sign has changed.
