06/02/2017

An Independent Study Confirms NOAA's Conclusion That The Earth Is Getting Warmer

Public Radio International (PRI) - Adam Wernick

An Argo float being raised out of the Bellingshausen Sea is shown here. Argo floats are robotic instruments that measure ocean data and transmit it to satellites. Credit: fruchtzwerg's world/Flickr
A new analysis of sea surface temperatures from an independent source corroborates updated global warming data released in 2015 by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.


This story is based on a radio interview. Listen to the full interview.


The results contradict allegations from some Republicans on Capitol Hill that NOAA manipulated its 2015 data to show continuous global warming, since earlier NOAA research had suggested the Earth was experiencing a warming "pause" or hiatus.
Between 1998 and 2012, NOAA research based on sea surface temperatures seemed to suggest that average global temperatures were not rising. This data did not support the theory of climate change, and skeptics were quick to use these figures as proof that global warming was a "hoax."
But in 2015, NOAA updated its research with new data that does indeed show a steady rise in global temperatures. This outraged some politicians who claimed that the numbers had been recalibrated to please climate action proponents on Capitol Hill.
Now, another study has independently corroborated NOAA’s 2015 results.
Zeke Hausfather, a research scientist at Berkeley Earth in California and one of the lead authors of that study, explains it this way: “In 2015, NOAA published a paper in Science, in which they released a new version of their sea surface temperature records. They updated it from version three to version four. This new version showed a lot more warming than their old version. It roughly doubled the amount of warming reported since 1998.”
Hausfather says the errors in the data arose from changes in the way scientists measure ocean temperature and in the methods they use to interpret that data. Oceans account for about two-thirds of Earth’s warming, so scientists have been trying to develop new and more accurate tools for measuring water temperatures across the globe.
Until the 1990s, the vast majority of measurements came from ships. It was pretty basic: intake valves pulled in ocean water to cool the ship’s engines and scientists stuck a thermometer in it, Hausfather says. In the early 1990s, governments around the world started investing a lot of money in modern, high-quality ocean monitoring systems. There were initially mostly buoys, but soon after they began to use satellites, as well. Hausfather believes this is how inaccuracies crept into the data over time.
“Both the NOAA record and the record by the UK's Hadley Center are what we call composite temperature records,” he explains. “They take data from a lot of different types of instruments, like ships and buoys, and smush them all together into a single, long-term record.”
The problem is that each of these methods measure temperature differently. So when researchers combine the data, they have to make “some judgment calls on how to handle the transition from one to another,” Hausfather explains.
Hausfather wanted to see what would happen if they didn’t try to combine the data. What if they used data from just one type of instrument at a time? He says the last two decades have seen an unprecedented amount of new Earth observation data, much of which is not being used by current monitoring groups.
Hausfather's team took data from ocean buoys, satellite radiometers and Argo floats — which are “awesome little robots that float around the ocean and dive deep down and come back up every few days, and then send their readings up to the satellites automatically," Hausfather says. "It turns out that all three of those records — the buoy record, the Argo record, and the satellite record — agree almost perfectly with the new NOAA temperature record."
Hausfather objects to the way some members of Congress have reacted to the new NOAA data. The head of the House Science and Technology Committee, for example, accused NOAA scientists of “cooking the books,” and even demanded access to all the scientists' emails.
“In general, the way science works is when you disagree with the result, you don't go after the scientists' emails — you ask other scientists to replicate it,” Hausfather says.
“Science is all about uncertainty,” he continues. “The problem in a lot of cases is that people interpret, ‘This is uncertain,’ as, ‘We know nothing.’ Scientists have said multiple times that we're 95 percent certain that the majority of warming in recent years is due to humans. Ninety-five percent is a pretty good number. If 19 out of 20 doctors you talked to said that you had a tumor, you probably would want to do something about that, even if that one out of 20 was less sure.”

Links

Turtle Hatchlings Dying In Extreme Heat At Mon Repos

ABC NewsJess Lodge


Turtles hatchlings dying in extreme heat at Mon Repos (ABC News)

Piles of dead turtle hatchlings are lining Queensland's famous Mon Repos beach amid a heatwave which has pushed the sand's temperature to a record 75 degrees Celsius.
While the majority of hatchlings break free from their nests at night when the sand is cooler, those escaping in the day face overheating.
"They can't sweat, they can't pant, so they've got no mechanism for cooling," Department of Environment and Heritage Protection chief scientist Dr Col Limpus said.
"If they encounter very hot sand they just simply heat up.
The exact number of deaths is not known at this stage, but it could be in the hundreds. (ABC Wide Bay: Jess Lodge)
"They slow down and that's the end for them.
"You really only have probably an hour or so in those really hot sands and it's terminal."
The extreme heat is also conducted down to the turtle's nest, pushing the temperature to about 34C, which is approaching the lethal level for incubation.
That is the hottest temperature recorded in a nest in more than a decade.

Record temperatures on Mon Repos beach are killing this season's turtle hatchlings. (ABC News)

"We've got an increased mortality … that we haven't been seeing in years," Dr Limpus said.
The average hatchling survival rate is 85 per cent but due to the heat it is likely to be a lot lower this year.
The exact number of turtle deaths is not known at this stage, but hundreds have been seen dead on the beach.
The 1.6-kilometre Mon Repos beach is the most important breeding site for Loggerhead turtles in the South Pacific.
The average 85 percent survival rate for hatchlings at Mon Repos is expected to be lower this year. (ABC Wide Bay: Jess Lodge)
The majority of the region's turtles are hatched on the beach, some 200,000 in a usual season.

Rangers, scientists, volunteers working overtime
The rangers, scientists and volunteers at Mon Repos have been working around the clock to save as many clutches of hatchlings as they can from the heat.
Deceased turtles in the dunes lead them to the nests where some hatchlings may still be alive beneath the surface and they work quickly to dig them up, separating the dead from the living.
Dr Col Limpus has recorded sand temperatures up to 75 degrees Celsius, a record for Mon Repos. (ABC Wide Bay: Jess Lodge)
Ranger Cathy Gatley has been protecting turtles at Mon Repos for 21 years. (Supplied: Cathy Gatley)

They are also relocating any new nests to hatchery areas underneath shade cloths, with sand surface temperatures under the shades up to 30 degrees cooler.
Cathy Gatley is the ranger in charge at the Mon Repos Conservation Park and has been working to protect the turtles on Bundaberg's coast for the past 21 years.
Ms Gatley said the heat was keeping the park rangers, volunteers and research crews very busy this year.
"Any turtle that comes ashore and nests, we're relocating those eggs back into a shade shelter," she said.
"Whereas in the past we would only relocate the eggs if they were down low in danger of being flooded and that's when we'd move them up to a higher spot."
Dr Limpus said how the turtles respond to the relocation was yet to be seen.
He said a long-term option might be to introduce more trees to create shade in the dunes for the turtle nests, but for now the shaded shelters were doing the job.
"This is something we didn't plan for, we've been confronted with a new situation," he said.
Volunteers work to sort the dead from the living and help as many hatchlings as they can to the ocean. (ABC Wide Bay: Jess Lodge)
Links

Our Fight To The Death With Nature Is Not One We Can Win

Fairfax

In population biology a refugium, or simply fuge, is a protective place for a relict population that has become threatened in its native habitat. Paradoxically, refugiums often make things worse for individuals and populations remaining in nature.
The vast royal greenhouses at Laeken, near Brussels, are such a refugium. Built as a pirate showcase for the extraordinary biodiversity of the Congo rainforest that Leopold II had so brutally colonised, they now preserve these fast-disappearing species. Yet the paradox: the 800,000 litres of fuel oil burnt each year to keep these plants alive help drive the climate change that is destroying what natural populations remain.
Illustration: Simon Bosch
Another refugium is the evangelical rapture. Relying on expected end times, as seen by many in the "Trumpocalypse", it yields such gems as the "rapture index", reported in the Daily Mail this week, which lists anti-semitism, droughts, false prophets and civil rights as signs of imminent end. When the excrement really hits the whizzer – the idea goes – the faithful elite will be airlifted bodily, rapturously, to heaven, leaving the rest of us to our miserable fate.
The paradox? Given the number of evangelical Christians in Sydney leadership – and that a 2011 survey that found "six of ten evangelical leaders believe in the rapture – a few  would actually believe this arrogant nonsense. That way - naturally counting themselves amongst the liftees - it's suddenly easy to treat climate change as no big thing.
Alison Whyte in Sydney Theatre Company's The Testament of Mary
This tussle between "I" and "we" underpins everything humans do on Earth. Clearly, our fight to the death with nature is not one we can win, because if we win, we die. Yet we continue to act on the delusion of wasteless, costless abundance, designing our arrant theologies to ignore the evident oneness of economy and ecology. For me, two recent Sydney events – Melissa and Mary – brought all this ineluctably to mind.
Melissa and Mary. These innocuous-sounding names could be the most significant you'll hear this century. Melissa, properly written MELiSSA (Micro-Ecological Life Support System Alternative) cropped up in a Sydney Festival art event by extraordinary scent artist Cat Jones. MELiSSA is the European Space Agency's bare-minimum ecosystem for indefinite human existence in deep space.
Mary is, well Mary, Mother of, as voiced by Colm Toibin's Testament of Mary, currently at Sydney Theatre. Toibin's Mary is overwhelmingly a mother: harrowed, heartbroken, doubtful of her son's divinity, insisting he just got in with the wrong crowd.
At first, MELiSSA and Mary seem to occupy opposite extremes of the existential spectrum – abstract, hyper-sterile reductionism versus stoic, earthy humanism. Each represents a future, a power relationship with nature: which (assuming we still have a choice) will we choose?
But perhaps, under the surface, Mary and MELiSSA are singing the same anthropocentric tune.
To be honest, the words European Space Agency seem almost a contradiction in terms, so far does old textured Europe (and especially Barcelona, where MELiSSA is based) seem from the abstract nothingness of space. But MELiSSA takes abstract nothingness totally on board – which is why it's terrifying.
The yearning for space is deep, but still morally ambiguous. There's the brave and noble urge to explore, self against Big Universe, chasing the final frontier. And there's the less noble – more brutal and territorial – urge to colonise.
The colonial drive has always been dodgy – both because it generally involves stealing other peoples' lands and lives, and because it offers the illusion of something for nothing: free resources, costless plunder and, as UTS social scientist Dr Jeremy Walker notes, escape from the moral and environmental responsibilities of home.
Walker has studied MELiSSA, parsing the eco-political ramifications of "guiltless abundance". MELiSSA, he writes (with colleague Celine Granjou), "emboldens the utopian anticipation of a synthetic biosphere within which the privileged may continue to elude the earthly consequences of their history".
MELiSSA is more exploratory than colonial, aiming to garner the fewest, smallest, most transportable species necessary to sustain human life with no input except sunlight.
But anyone who saw Matt Damon in The Martian knows that, ship or planet, it's the same deal. You're in space, you need water, oxygen, food. How do you make it? How do you treat waste?
The inverse relationship between respiration and photosynthesis is clearly key. That each process absorbs the other's waste and excretes the other's raw material seems one of evolution's little gifts to space travel. Certainly, it lets MELiSSA whittle the "necessary" species to a few photosynthetic bacteria and algae, 30 or 40 needed food crops and the billion-odd microbes that, extracted from the human gut, compost the waste back into nutrients. As Walker notes, MELiSSA demands "a claustrophobic proximity between the crew and its wastes".
Forget Noah. This is an ark sans trees, elephants, gibbons and grasshoppers. Multicells unnecessary. If Earth dies (we decide), they die with it – while in cold loveless space, humans live on in their hyper-sterile pharma-factory, feeding forever on hydroponic, shit-fed veges without gravity, mystery or chance
For me, it has strictly limited appeal. If Trump presses the button, I'll probably head for the epicentre and be done with it.
But MELiSSA's founding premises also need scrutiny. One is that storming off to new planets is legitimate as a response to having wrecked this one. The other is that "necessary" species are definable in strictly anthropocentric terms.
Enter Mary. Although Toibin's Mary grudgingly acknowledges one or two of her son's miracles, she denies the immaculate conception ("I was there") and insists the resurrection story is a dream repeated in error.  She herself worships Artemis, goddess of animals and the hunt.
Many see this as the play's strength. Tracing our planetary exploitation to our shift, way back, from embedded pantheism to transcendent monotheism, they regard Mary's stoic humanity as one for the planet.
I'm less sure. Transcendence is not arrogance. It doesn't mean remaking yourself as some space-based jet-propelled sky god. What you're meant to transcend is not Earth, but ego. Exploitation should become impossible.
Neither space nor rapture will save us; not heaven, not Mars, not the Starship Enterprise. The gods, one or many, have no interest in slithering us from our deeds. Earth is our refugium. Fade to black.

Links